A humble cottage stands in Nazareth,
Full of the rose’s and lily’s breath.
A brooklet sprays the garden with its dew,
White pigeons round the lowly roof beams coo.
Out in the yard there stand two wide green trees
Bending their heads while in their crown hum bees.
And Anne kneels in the dust and weeps and prays
And wrestles with her God for many days:
“O Lord, see Thou thy handmaid’s bitter shame,
Though ever faithful I call on Thy name.
Thou art my hope, my comfort, and my light;
O take my curse away, make my life bright.
The mothers all disdainfully pass by…
Whene’er I hear a baby’s joyous cry
Or see a baby smile on mother’s lap,
It rends my heart….I mourn my dark mishap.
Must I alone have no child to caress?
Must weep in silence and deep soul distress?
In shame my dear and ever faithful spouse
Has gone away from our lonely house;
To flee from constant words of jeer…
He went away into the desert drear
And never can be happy anymore.
I sit alone behind the cottage door.
O why hast Thou this blessing me denied?
My hair is gray, my lips from weeping dried.
But’ neath thy ever blessed hand
May bloom an Eden in the desert land,
It Thou commandest, it is quickly done,
Give me a child, a daughter or a son.
Now from the trees a gentle rustling sound,
An angel stands before her on the ground.
“God’s peace to thee and do no longer weep,
Look up and let thy heart in joy waves leap,
For thou, the childless, gray and old,
Shalt soon upon thy knees a daughter hold.
Arise, go to the temple’s golden gate
Where lovingly thy spouse shall thee await.
Go forth and offer grateful sacrifice,
Within a year thou shalt be happy mother-wise.”
Now bloom the lilies twice as bright,
The brooklet sings with all its might,
The roses spread a fragarance doubly sweet,
The pigeons coo more gayly as they meet.
St. Anne lifts up her hand in joyous pray’r,
Her face is like a maiden’s glad and fair;
“My little daughter sent by grace divine,
Will be my autumn day’s bright spring sunshine.”