The Sleepless Jesus

    'Tis time to sleep, my little boy:
        Why gaze thy bright eyes so?
    At night our children, for new joy
        Home to thy father go,
    But thou art wakeful! Sleep, my child;
        The moon and stars are gone;
    The wind is up and raving wild,
        But thou art smiling on!

    My child, thou hast immortal eyes
        That see by their own light;
    They see the children's blood--it lies
        Red-glowing through the night!
    Thou hast an ever-open ear
        For sob or cry or moan:
    Thou seemest not to see or hear,
        Thou only smilest on!

    When first thou camest to the earth,
        All sounds of strife were still;
    A silence lay about thy birth,
        And thou didst sleep thy fill:
    Thou wakest now--why weep'st thou not?
        Thy earth is woe-begone;
    Both babes and mothers wail their lot,
        But still thou smilest on!

    I read thy face like holy book;
        No hurt is pictured there;
    Deep in thine eyes I see the look
        Of one who answers prayer.
    Beyond pale grief and wild uproars,
        Thou seest God's will well done;
    Low prayers, through chambers' closed doors,
        Thou hear'st--and smilest on.

    Men say: "I will arise and go;"
        God says: "I will go meet:"
    Thou seest them gather, weeping low,
        About the Father's feet;
    And each for each begin to bear,
        And standing lonely none:
    Answered, O eyes, ye see all prayer!
        Smile, Son of God, smile on.