The Wise-Men pines looked down upon her child
Cradled beside her in a snowy bed
Of curling bracken. Forest-dark was aisled
With moonlight. As the silver silence spread
On shepherd cedars kneeling in their awe,
The night wind's muted song a lullaby,
This gentle mother of the woodland saw
A strange new star that moved across the sky;
And shining down upon the bracken bed
It made a halo for her young fawn's head.
