Poems (Thaxter)/The Cradle
THE CRADLE.
The barn was low and dim and old, Broad on the floor the sunshine slept,And through the windows and the doors Swift in and out the swallows swept.
And breezes from the summer sea Drew through, and stirred the fragrant hayDown-dropping from the loft, wherein A gray old idle fish-net lay
Heaped in a corner, and one loop Hung loose the dry, sweet grass among,And hammock-wise to all the winds It floated to and fro, and swung.
And there one day the children brought The pet of all the house to play;A baby boy of three years old, And sweeter than the dawn of day.
They laid him in the dropping loop, And softly swung him, till at lastOver his beauty balmy Sleep Its delicate enchantment cast.
And then they ran to call us all: "Come, see where little Rob is! Guess!"And brought us where the darling lay, A heap of rosy loveliness
Curled in the net: the dim old place He brightened; like a star he shoneCradled in air; we stood as once The shepherds of Judea had done.
And while adoring him we gazed, With eyes that gathered tender dew,Wrathful upon the gentle scene His Celtic nurse indignant flew.
"Is this a fit place for the child!" And out of his delicious sleepShe clutched him, muttering as she went, Her scorn and wonder, low and deep.
His father smiled, and drew aside; A grave, sweet look was in his face,"For One, who in a manger lay, It was not found too poor a place!
