A happy lot
We never yet possest,
A happy lot
For us poor shepherd folk existeth not;
Then wherefore utter the strange jest
That by an infant's birth we shall be blest
With happy lot?
The shepherds begin to bestir themselves. One says that he feels overcome with fear at the sound of so much noise and commotion. The angel responds, "Come without fear; do not hesitate, but redouble your speed. It is in this village, in a poor place, near yonder wood, that you may see the Infant Lord." Another of the shepherds, who seems to have only just woke up, inquires:
What do you say?