THE HYMN.
I.
It was the winter wilde
While the Heav'n-born childe
All meanly wrapt in the rude manger lies;
Nature in aw of him
Had doff't her gaudy trim,
With her great Master so to sympathize:
It was no season then for her
To wanton with the sun her lusty paramour.[7]
II.
Onely with speeches fair
She woo's the gentle air
To hide her guilty front with innocent snow,
And on her naked shame,
Pollute with sinfull blame,
The saintly veil of maiden[8] white to throw:
Confounded that her Makers eyes
Should look so near upon her foul deformities.
III.
But he, her fears to cease,
Sent down the meek-eyed Peace,
She, crown'd with olive green, came softly sliding
Down through the turning sphear,[9]
His ready harbinger,[10]
With turtle[11] wing the amorous clouds dividing,
And, waving wide her mirtle wand,
She strikes a universall peace[12] through sea and land.
IV.
No war, or battails sound,
Was heard the world around;
The idle spear and shield were high up hung;
The hooked chariot[13] stood
Unstain'd with hostile blood;
The trumpet spake not to the armed throng;
And kings sate still with awfull eye,[14]
As if they surely knew their sovran Lord was by.