The Christ-child lay on Mary’s lap,
His hair was like a light.
O weary, weary were the world,
But here is all a-right.
The Christ-child lay on Mary’s breast,
His hair was like a star.
O stern and cunning are the Kings,
But here the true hearts are.
The Christ-child lay on Mary’s heart,
His hair was like a fire.
O weary, weary is the world,
But there the world’s desire.
The Christ-child lay on Mary’s knee,
His hair was like a crown,
And all the flowers looked up at him
And all the stars looked down.
G. K. Chesterton (1874-1936)