Yes, I shall take this quiet house and keep it
With kindled hearth and candle-lighted board,
In singing silence garnish it and sweep it
For Christ, my Lord.

My heart is filled with little songs to sing Him—
I dream them into words with careful art—
But this I think a better gift to bring Him,
Nearer his heart.

The foxes have their holes, the wise, the clever;
The birds have each a safe and secret nest;
But He, my lover, walks the world with never
A place to rest.

I found Him once upon a straw bed lying;
(Once on His mother’s heart He laid His head)
He had a bramble pillow for His dying,
A stone when dead.

I think to leave off singing for this reason,
Taking instead my Lord God’s house to keep,
Where He may find a home in every season
To wake, to sleep.

Do you not think that in this holy sweetness
Of silence shared with God a whole life long
Both he and I shall find divine completeness
Of perfect song?