The Works of J. W. von Goethe/Volume 9/Holy Family

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O child of beauty rare—
O mother chaste and fair—
How happy seemed they both, so far beyond compare!
She in her infant blest,
And he in conscious rest,
Nestling within the soft warm cradle of her breast!
What joy that sight might bear
To him who sees them there,
If, with a pure and guilt-untroubled eye,
He looked upon the twain, like Joseph standing by.