Classic Poem

The Bride of God has lain her head
At rest on Joseph's knee,
In hush of sleep her breath is dead,
Her hair falls loose and free,
And Joseph smooths its rippling strands
Tenderly in his coarse great hands.

He thinks of sunny Nazareth
When Mary kissed him first,
Ere for God's love she brake her faith,
And lest his heart should burst
He turns his eyes away once more
From Jesus smiling by the door.