Classic Poem

There was of old a poor man's house,
Within a lowly eastern town,
Wherein our blessed Saviour lived,
When He to earth from heaven came down.

There did He live a little Child,
Was subject to His parents' sway;
There work'd, perhaps, with willing hand,
And grew in wisdom day by day.

The breeze blew fragrant from the hills,
The blue lake gently murmur'd, near:
But sweeter than the mountain's flower,
And purer than the water clear,

Was Sharon's rose beneath that roof —
The holy Child so pure and fair,
In meek obedience year by year,
Love's perfect pattern lingering there.

O let us often seek in thought
That cottage-house in Galilee;
And by this blest example learn
What Christian children ought to be:

Then show within our own poor hearts,
Obedient love and duteous care;
And Christ, Who was a peasant Child,
Shall come Himself and bless us there.