They saw Her brightest hour
blest of thy Humble King
and, thus, o'er Her, garlanded
marvels in that once-forgettable manger
blooming in the Holy Mother’s heart

Then the harpings in the manger
did smile unto the Lamb of Mary,
strangely heralding the night-tide
beneath a dome of heavenly stars, a sea of
quiet hours and Mary’s grateful prayer

Guide His noble crown, ward
of that Humble purple chaplet
O Speechless Child, wrapped so in
kingly prayers that never had Bethlehem
in nativity kept, nigh or afar