Classic Poem

I see him: on thy lap he lies
'Mid that Judaean stable's gloom:
Oh, sweet, Oh, awful Sacrifice;
He smiles in sleep, yet knows the doom.

Thou gav'st him life: but was not this
That life which knows no parting breath?
Unmeasured life? unwaning bliss?
Dread Priestess, lo, thou gav'st him death.

Beneath the tree thy Mother stood;
Beneath the cross thou too shalt stand —
O tree of life, O bleeding rood,
Thy shadow stretches far its hand.

That God who made the sun and moon,
In swaddling bands lies dumb and bound —
Love's Captive, darker prison soon
Awaits thee in the garden ground.

He wakens: Paradise looks forth
Beyond the portals of the grave.
Life, life thou gavest — life to earth.
Not him: thine Infant dies to save.