Author Katharine Lee Bates THE wolf of want is howling At doors no angel keeps. Young Mary smiled on her Holy Child, But many a mother weeps. The Kings of the East brought treasures Uncounted and unpriced. Who bears a gift to arms that lift A little famished Christ? Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments