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mary foye <maharani_gndb >

Oxen and Jesus

"Noma T. Petroff" <npetroff (AT) bowdoin (DOT) edu>

In-<3E08B8BA.A824A320 (AT) bowdoin (DOT) edu>

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Happy Christmas, Mom! You may forward this to anyone you like.

 

Sleep of the Child Jesus

(Ancient Belgian Carol)

 

'Twixt ox and ass, Thy Guardians mild,

Sleep, sleep, Thou Little Child,

Angels tall and white,

Seraphs pure and bright,

Watching all above the mighty Lord of Love.

Sleep, sleep,

'Twixt rose and lily undefiled,

'Twixt shepherd youths all unbeguiled.

 

***

 

Carol of the Russian Children (excerpt)

(Author Unknown)

 

Shaggy pony, shaggy oxen,

Gentle shepherds wait the light;

Little Jesu, little mother,

Good St. Joseph, come this night.

Light! Light! Light!

 

***

 

>From "The Cherry Tree Carol"

 

As Joseph was a-waukin',

He heard an angel sing,

"This night shall be the birthnight

Of Christ our heavenly King.

 

"His birth-bed shall be neither

In housen nor in hall,

Nor in the place of Paradise,

But in the oxen stall."

 

***

 

I Saw a Stable

Mary Elizabeth Coleridge

 

I saw a stable, low and very bare,

A little child in a manger.

The oxen knew Him, had Him in their care,

To men He was a stranger.

The safety of the world was lying there,

And the world's danger.

 

***

 

A Christmas Folk-Song

Lizette Woodward Reese

 

The little Jesus came to town;

The wind blew up, the wind blew down;

Out in the street the wind was bold;

Now who would house Him from the cold?

 

Then opened wide a stable door,

Fair were the rushes on the floor;

The Ox put forth a horned head:

"Come, little Lord, here make Thy bed."

 

Uprose the Sheep were folded near:

"Thou Lamb of God, come, enter here."

He entered there to rush and reed,

Who was the Lamb of God indeed.

 

The little Jesus came to town;

With ox and sheep He laid Him down;

Peace to the byre, peace to the fold,

For that they housed Him from the cold!

 

***

 

Tryste Noel

Louise Imogen Guiney

 

The Ox he openeth wide the Doore,

And from the Snowe he calls her inne,

And he hath seen her Smile therefor,

Our Ladye without Sinne.

Now soone from Sleep

A Starre shall leap.

And soone arrive bothe King and Hinde:

Amen, Amen:

But O, the Place co'd I but finde!

 

The Ox hath hush'd his Voyce and bent

Trewe eyes of Pitty ore the Mow,

And on his lovelie Neck, forspent,

The Blessed layes her Browe.

Around her feet

Full Warme and Sweete

His bowerie Breath doth meeklie dwell:

Amen, Amen:

But sore am I with Vaine Travel!

 

The Ox is host in Judah stall,

And Host of more than onelie one,

For close She gathereth withal

Our Lorde, Her littel Sonne.

Glad Hinde and King

Their Gyfte may bring,

But wo'd tonight my Teares were there,

Amen, Amen:

Between her Bosom and His Hayre!

 

***

 

Kings

Joyce Kilmer

 

The Kings of the earth are men of might,

And cities are burned for their delight,

And the skies rain death in the silent night,

And the hills belch death all day!

But the King of Heaven, Who made them all,

Is fair, and gentle, and very small;

He lies in the straw, by the oxen's stall --

Let them think of Him today!

 

***

 

Attendants

David Morton

 

The mild-eyed Oxen and the gentle Ass,

By manger or in pasture that they graze,

Lift their slow heads to watch us where we pass,

A reminiscent wonder in their gaze.

Their low humility is like a crown,

A grave distinction they have come to wear, --

Their look gone past us--to a little Town,

And a white miracle that happened there.

 

An old, old vision haunts those quiet eyes,

Where proud remembrance drifts to them again,

Of Something that has made them humbly wise,

-- These burden-bearers for the race of men --

And lightens every load they lift or pull,

Something that chanced because the Inn was full.

 

***

 

On Christmas Eve

Edith Lovejoy Pierce

 

On Christmas eve the ox, the ass, the sheep

Spoke to the Christ-child as He lay asleep

 

Said the ass:

"You will carry heavy burdens, little Brother.

Mighty loads will be put upon you, little Brother."

 

Said the sheep:

"They will shear you of your fleece, little Brother.

They will strip you on a cold day, little Brother."

 

Said the ox:

"You will draw a plow through stony soil, little Brother.

Wood shall be laid across your neck, little Brother."

 

So softly spoke the ox, the ass, the sheep;

They troubled not the little Jesus' sleep...

 

***

 

The Oxen

Thomas Hardy

 

Christmas Eve, and twelve of the clock.

"Now they are all on their knees,"

An elder said as we sat in a flock

By the embers in hearthside ease.

 

We pictured the meek mild creatures where

They dwelt in their strawy pen,

Nor did it occur to one of us there

To doubt they were kneeling then.

 

So fair a fancy few would weave

In these years! Yet, I feel,

If someone said on Christmas Eve,

"Come; see the oxen kneel,

 

"In the lonely barton by yonder coomb

Our childhood used to know,"

I should go with him in the gloom,

Hoping it might be so.

 

 

 

 

 

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