W. Garrett Horder, comp. The Poets’ Bible: New Testament. 1895.
At NazarethGeorge Alexander Chadwick (18401923)
The wisdom of the Christ was nursed:
Here first the wonder and surprise
Of Nature lit the sacred eyes:
Waters, and winds, and woodlands here,
With earliest music charmed His ear,
For all His conscious youth drew breath,
Among these hills of Nazareth.
His fearless and elastic tread,
His ringing voice in grove and dell
Singing the songs of Israel.
And Mary watched with joy and tears,
And pride and awe, the ripening years
Of her fair flower that bloom’d beneath
The cliffs that shelter Nazareth.
Men say the Saviour never smiled;
Ah, perfect youth and perfect boy,
How could He choose but thrill for joy?
Nor yet the cruel cross He bore,
Him God and man loved more and more;
He prospered, and drew balmy breath
In the fresh air of Nazareth.
Made mirth around the youth they loved;
To Him none proffered suit in vain,
Unsolaced none confessed his pain;
Oftimes He cooled the fevered head,
And watch’d beside the sleepless bed:
Best comforter in life and death,
Was Jesus unto Nazareth.
The faces round were bright with love;
He lost not, in the tranquil place,
One hint of wisdom or of grace;
Not unobserved, nor vague nor dim,
The secret of the world to Him,
The prayer He heard which Nature saith
In the still glades by Nazareth.
The step, the face, the heart appears;
The burden of the world He knows,
The unloved Helper’s lonely woes
Till, when the summons bids Him rise
From that still place of placid skies,
Fearless, yet sorrowing unto death,
Jesus goes forth from Nazareth.