Ecce Puer

	Of the dark past
	A child is born;
	With joy and grief
	My heart is torn.

	Calm in his cradle
	The living lies.
	May love and mercy
	Unclose his eyes!

	Young life is breathed
	On the glass;
	The world that was not
	Comes to pass.

	A child is sleeping:
	An old man gone.
	O, father forsaken,
	Forgive your son!


Note: This poem was written "on the occasion of his grandson's [Stephen's] birth and soon after his father's death." (Levin) The title in Latin means "lo! a boy."

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