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THE FOUNDLING

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I

The good man sat before the fire,

And oftentimes he sighed;

The good wife softly wept the while

Her evening work she plied:

One year ago this happy time

The little Marie died!

II

“And surely, now, if she had lived,

She would have reached my knee!”

“And surely, now, if she had lived,

How cunning would she be!”

In fancy each a darling face

Beside their hearth could see.

III

The door swung wide—a gust of wind

The fitful candle blew;

’Twas Franz, the awkward stable-boy,

His clattering step they knew.

“But Franz, speak up, speak up, and tell

What thing has chanced to you!”

IV

His round blue eyes with wonder shone,

His bashful fears had fled:

“I saw—I saw the cattle kneel

Upon their strawy bed;

And in a manger lay the Child—

A light shone round His head!”

V

“He must have dreamed,” the good man said,

“A vision, it would seem.”

“Nay, master, for the light shone bright

On stall and loft and beam.”

Then said the good wife, “I, perhaps,

Might go and dream this dream!”

VI

No further words, but forth she fared,

With Franz to lead the way.

They reached the barn, whose sagging door

Shot out a yellow ray;

The kine did kneel upon the straw,

As truthful Franz did say!

VII

And there—oh, lovely, lovely sight,

Oh, pleading, tender sight!

Within a manger, lapped in hay,

A smiling, rosy mite

The good wife saw, and nearer held

The lantern’s yellow light.

VIII

She took the foundling in her arms,

And on its sleeping face

Her tears and kisses fell in one:

“How great is Heaven’s grace!

It is the Christ-Child’s gift to me,

To ease the aching place!”

Children of Christmas, and Others

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