Partus Virginis

Him whom, as mothers use,
I bosomed full tide,
I bore, King of the Jews,
And God, beside.

They speak of star and kings,
Wondrous in Bethlehem,
And angels with great wings,—
Enough, of them.

What should my thoughts do
Since the March weather,
And first God and I drew
Breath together?

What should I think upon,
Day or night tide,
Since Elizabeth's son
Knew, in her side,—

But the coming of Another,
On His shoeless feet,
I, the budding earth, His Mother,
And my breast spring-sweet?

Was it night or day breaking?
Little I could spin,
Who knew my veins making
Robe He should die in.

Nazareth, or David's town,
It was equal to me;
Straw, or eiderdown,
Shepherds, royalty.

There were only He and I,
Within, without me,
All the still sky
Folded about me.

He came: we two apart;
And I thought Him dead
Till He wailed, when my heart
Broke, and joy bled.
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