His hair was like a light.
(O weary, weary were the world,
But here is all aright.)
The Christ-child lay on Mary’s breast
His hair was like a star.
(O stern and cunning are the kings,
But here the true hearts are.)
The Christ-child lay on Mary’s heart,
His hair was like a fire.
(O weary, weary is the world,
But here the world’s desire.)
The Christ-child stood on Mary’s knee,
His hair was like a crown,
And all the flowers looked up at Him,
And all the stars looked down.
--Gilbert Keith Chesterton
(A blessed Christmastide to you all, dear readers. I thank you for all of your lovely comments and well-wishes and, most especially, for your prayers. And I pray that Almighty God will richly bless you and your dear ones during these twelve joyful days in which we celebrate Our Blessed Savior's holy birth. May Our Lady be near you throughout this sacred season.--KS)
