The Child Whose Name Is Love
by JOAN LA BOMBARD
Now the spectral moon
Rises in the thorn
The tiger will awake
The tiger-shape will conic
Rises in the thorn
The tiger will awake
The tiger-shape will conic
Between three hushèd trees
That ring a sleeping child.
The fitful stars will leap
And the wind still.
That ring a sleeping child.
The fitful stars will leap
And the wind still.
The beast will velvet move
In circles round that bed
And evil’s breath will hover
The child, whose name is love,
Whose name, whose name is love.
In circles round that bed
And evil’s breath will hover
The child, whose name is love,
Whose name, whose name is love.
Now spectral leans the moon
The wind cries in the thorn
The tiger’s crouched power
Shadows the sleeping one.
O who will wake and warn?
The wind cries in the thorn
The tiger’s crouched power
Shadows the sleeping one.
O who will wake and warn?
The child in sleep will stir
And lay Him on His side
And quietness will brood
Over that wounded bed.
And lay Him on His side
And quietness will brood
Over that wounded bed.
Three hushed trees will bleed.
Three hushed trees will bleed
Great quietness will come
And the tiger kneel down.
Three hushed trees will bleed
Great quietness will come
And the tiger kneel down.