The Cradle and the Cross

The greatest gain the world has known
    Was Heaven's greatest loss;
Her King was gone!  His mission was
    To die upon a cross.

To Earth He came, a Babe to be.
    No pillow knew His head;
No royal cradle did He choose-
     A manger was His bed.

No royal court to welcome Him,
    Just Mary's lullaby,
And humble shepherds from the hills-
    (But angels sang on high!)

The heart of Mary pondered o'er
    The measure of the cost,
As o'er the sleeping Infant fell
    The shadow of a cross.

He'd be a man 'fore she'd recall
    The aged prophet's word,
But when He hung on Calvary
     Her heart would feel the sword.

She could not know that holy night
    When star-fire lit the sky,
Her tiny Babe-the Son of God-
    Was only born to die.

Copyright by Ruth Martin (rrm/12-64) All Rights Reserved

The Prayer Life Magazine