NEW PRINCE, NEW POMP.

BEHOLD a silly tender Babe,

In freezing winter night,

In homely manger trembling lies;

Alas, a piteous sight!

The inns are full, no man will yield

This little Pilgrim bed;

But forced He is with silly beasts,

In crib to shroud His head.
Despise Him not for lying there,
First what He is inquire :
An orient pearl is often found

In depth of dirty mire.

Weigh not His crib, His wooden dish,

Nor beasts that by Him feed: Weigh not His mother's poor attire,

Nor Joseph's simple weed. This stable is a prince's court, The crib His chair of state : The beasts are parcel of His

pomp,

The wooden dish His plate. The persons in that poor attire

His royal liveries wear;

The Prince Himself is come from heaven;

This pomp is prized there.

With joy approach, O Christian wight,
Do homage to thy King;

And highly praise His humble pomp,

Which He from heaven doth bring.

Robert Southwell.

VIRGIN-BORN! we bow before Thee!
Blessed was the womb that bore Thee!
Mary, mother meek and mild,

Blessed was she in her child!

Blessed was the breast that fed Thee!

Blessed was the hand that led Thee!
Blessed was the parent's eye

That watched Thy slumbering infancy!

Blessed she by all creation,

Who brought forth the world's Salvation!

And blessed they, for ever blest,

Who love Thee most and serve Thee best!

Virgin-born! we bow before Thee!

Blessed was the womb that bore Thee!

Mary, mother meek and mild,

Blessed was she in her Child!

Reginald Heber

1.

As on the night before this happy morn,
A blessed angel unto shepherds told,
Where (in a stable) He was poorly born,

Whom, nor the earth nor heaven of heavens can hold:

Through Bethlehem rung

This news at their return;

Yea, angels sung

That God with us was born:

And they made mirth because we should not mourn.

CHORUS.

Their angel-carol sing we then,
To God on high all glory be,

For peace on earth bestoweth He,

And showeth favour unto men.

II.

This favour Christ vouchsafed for our sake,
To buy us thrones He in a manger lay,

Our weakness took, that we His strength might take,
And was disrobed that He might us array:

And wept for us, that we might sing for aye.

CHORUS.

With angels therefore sing again,
To God on high all glory be!

For peace on earth bestoweth He,

And showeth favour unto men.

George Wither.

FOR Thou wert born of woman! Thou didst come,

O Holiest to this world of sin and gloom,

Not in Thy dread omnipotent array;

And not by thunders strewed

Was Thy tempestuous road;

Nor indignation burnt before Thee on Thy way.

But Thee, a soft and naked child,

Thy mother undefiled,

In the rude manger laid to rest

From off her virgin breast.

The heavens were not commanded to prepare

A gorgeous canopy of golden air;

Nor stooped their lamps the enthroned fires on high :

A single, silent star,

Came wandering from afar,

Gliding unchecked and calm along the liquid sky;

The Eastern sages leading on

As at a kingly throne,

To lay their gold and odours sweet

Before Thy infant feet.

The earth and ocean were not hushed to hear

Bright harmony from every starry sphere;

Nor at Thy presence brake the voice of song

From all the cherub choirs,

And seraphs' burning lyres,

Poured through the host of heaven the charmed clouds along.

One angel-troop the strain began,

Of all the race of man

By simple shepherds heard alone,

That soft hosanna's tone.

Henry H. Milman.

WHAT sudden blaze of song

Spreads o'er the expanse of heaven?
In waves of light it thrills along,

The angelic signal given :

"Glory to God!" from yonder central fire
Flows out the echoing lay beyond the starry quire;

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Like circles widening round

Upon a clear blue river,

Orb after orb, the wond'rous sound

Is echoed on for ever:

Glory to God on high, on earth be peace,

And love towards men of love— salvation and release!"