THE SHEPHERDS' PLAIN.

Babe of weakness, can it be, That earth's last great victory Is to be achieved by thee?

Child of meekness, can it be, That the proud rebellious knee Of this world shall bend to thee?

Child of poverty, art thou

He to whom all heaven shall bow, And all earth shall pay the vow?

Can that feeble head alone Bear the weight of such a crown As belongs to David's Son?

Can these helpless hands of thine Wield a sceptre so divine, As belongs to Jesse's line?

Heir of pain and oil, whom none In this evil day will own, Art thou the Eternal One?

Thou, o'er whom the sword and rod Wave, in haste to drink thy blood, Art thou very Son of God?

Thus revealed to shepherds' eyes, Hidden from the great and wise, Entering earth in lowly guise ,­

Entering by this narrow door, Laid upon this rocky floor, Placed in yonder manger poor!

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