“It’s queer,” she said; “I see the light
As plain as I beheld it then,
All silver—like and calm and bright—
We’ve not had stars like that again!
”And she was such a gentle thing
To birth a baby in the cold.
The barn was dark and frightening–
This new one’s better than the old.
“I mind my eyes were full of tears,
For I was young, and quick distressed,
But she was less than me in years
That held a son against her breast.
”I never saw a sweeter child–
The little one, the darling one!-
I mind I told her, when he smiled
You’d know he was his mother’s son.
“It’s queer that I should see them so–
The time they came to Bethlehem
Was more than thirty years ago;
I’ve prayed that all is well with them.”