Through the starred Judean night <br />She went, in travail of the Light, <br />With the earliest hush she saw <br />God beside her in the straw. <br /> <br />One poor taper glimmered clear, <br />Drowsing Joseph nodded near, <br />All the glooms were rosed with wings. <br />She that knew the Spirit's kiss <br />Wearied of the bright abyss. <br />She was tired of heavenly things. <br />There between the day and night <br />These she counted for delight: <br /> <br />Baby kids that butted hard <br />In the shadowy stable yard; <br />Silken doves that dipped and preened <br />Where the crumbling well-curb greened; <br />Sparrows in the vine, and small <br />Sapphired flies upon the wall, <br />So lovely they seemed musical. <br /> <br />In the roof a swift had built. <br />All the new-born airs were spilt <br />Out of cups the morning made <br />Of a glory and a shade. <br />These her solemn eyelids felt <br />While unseen the seraphs knelt. <br />Then a young mouse, sleek and bold, <br />Rustling in the winnowed gold, <br />To her shadow crept, and curled <br />Near the Ransom of the World.<br /><br />Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/mary-tired/
