’Twas a proud city and a rich; A city fair and old; Filled with the world’s most costly things,-- Of precious stones and gold; Of silks, fine woods, and spiceries; And all that’s bought and sold. Thither came homeless Marien, Came there as it grew late, Foot-sore and weary, friendless, poor, Unto the city gate. There found her a poor carpenter Returning from his trade, And he, with pitying countenance, Her weary form surveyed. “Come!” said he, “thou unto my house, Shalt go: and of my bread, And of my cup, thou shalt partake; Shalt bide with me!” and as he spake Her weary steps he led. Unto an humble place that stood ’Mong dwellings of the poor He brought her; bade her welcome thrice Unto his lowly door. The good-wife met her with like cheer, “And though our fare is scant, Fear not,” she said, “whilst we have food It is not thou shall want!” So dwelt she with this humble pair In the great city, cherished so, As parents cherish their first born; Nor would they let her go. Thus for a year she dwelt with them; And that while their abode Was blessed exceedingly; their store Grew daily, weekly, more and more; And peace so multiplied around, The very hearth seemed holy ground, As if once more on earth was found The Paradise of God. ’Twas she that blessed the bread they ate, ’Twas she soothed all their cares; They knew not that they entertained An angel unawares. With simple hearts that had no guile They of the Saviour heard; And, weeping tears of joyful faith, Believed and blessed each word. No more they marvelled how their board With plenteous food was spread; Five barley loaves dispensed by Christ The famished thousands fed. With love that would not be repressed, Their kindling bosoms burned, And ’mong their neighbours poor they went To teach what they had learned. To teach how Christ unto the poor, The sinner vile, was sent; How Mary washed his feet with tears, And wiped them with her golden hairs, A weeping penitent. And how the sinful woman stood Unjudged before his face; How the poor prodigal sped back Repentant to his place; How to the thief upon the cross He said, thou art forgiven, And thou shalt be with me this day, In the paradise of heaven. So preached the carpenter; and men Turned from their evil ways, And Christian prayer was heard around, And Christian hymns of praise. Strange seemed these things; and to the rich, And to the proud, ’twas told, How many of the meaner sort Lived like the saints of old.