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.