The Christ-child lay on Mary's lap
His hair was like a light
O weary, weary were the world
But here is all aright
The Christ-child lay on Mary's breast
His hair was like a star
O stern and cunning are the kings
But here the true hearts are
The Christ-child lay on Mary's heart
His hair was like a fire
O weary, weary is the world
But here the world's desire
The Christ-child stood on Mary's knee
His hair was like a crown
And all the flowers looked up at Him
And all the stars looked down