The Christ Child

The Christ-child lay on Mary's lap, His hair was like a light.(O weary, weary is 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 at Mary's knee, His hair was like a crown.And all the flowers looked up at Him, And all the stars looked down.