Madonna of the Woodland

The Wise-Men pines looked down upon her child

Cradled beside her in a snowy bed

Of curling bracken. Forest-dark was aisled

With moonlight. As the silver silence spread

On shepherd cedars kneeling in their awe,

The night wind's muted song a lullaby,

This gentle mother of the woodland saw

A strange new star that moved across the sky;

And shining down upon the bracken bed

It made a halo for her young fawn's head.