Poems (Kimball)/The Blessed Babe
THE BLESSED BABE.
THE Child, the Promised Child, is born!"Glad tidings" to a world forlorn!Celestial choirs in bright array Descend to hail His natal day.
Oh, come and see the wondrous thing Whereof the Christmas angels sing—The Blessed Babe in Mary's arms, With all a babe's endearing charms.
In unimagined splendors far Beyond remotest sun or star His throne uplifts, yet here He lies In Bethlehem's stall, in mean disguise.
Angelic hosts that press unseen, The questioning kine with instinct keen, The wondering shepherds, all adore The mystery foretold of yore.
Here is the Virgin undefiled; Here Israel's Holy One, the Child, Emmanuel, whom centuries Have watched for with prophetic eyes.
His Name is Wonderful, we read, The Counsellor in all our need, The Mighty God, the Father great, Created things to re-create.
And more, if more were possible, The Prince of Peace His work shall tell Who comes to conquer every foe That human soul can ever know.
Yea, more—the Name that Gabriel gave—He comes as Jesus, strong to save; The matchless depth, the matchless height Of Love revealed to mortal sight.
O weary one, whate'er thy name, O penitent, whate'er thy shame, O ardent soul, O mourner sad, O youth, O childhood, strong and glad,
Art thou of high or low degree, He comes, this Blessed Babe, to thee; Receive Him, press Him to thy heart, And in this cold world take His part!
In this cold world that doth but play, Alas, at keeping Christmas Day! Receive Him, press Him to thy heart, And He in turn will take thy part!
In His unearthly kingdom share; His laws obey; His signet wear; His Living Presence taste, and see How gracious Christ the Lord can be!
Henceforth temptation's arrows sore May wound but poison thee no more; Nor griefs o'erwhelm, nor faith grow dim, Because thy heart enshrineth Him!