5. Ye must not be more pitiful than wise;
For, now unless ye see Him bleed,
Which makes the bapti'm, 'tis decreed
The birth is fruitless. Chor. Then the work God speed.
1. Touch gently, gently touch; and here
Spring tulips up through all the year;
And from His sacred blood, here shed,
May roses grow to crown His own dear head.
Chor. Back, back again; each thing is done
With zeal alike, as 'twas begun;
Now singing, homeward let us carry
The Babe unto His mother Mary;
And when we have the Child commended
To her warm bosom, then our rites are ended.
Composed by M. Henry Lawes.
98. ANOTHER NEW-YEAR'S GIFT: OR, SONG FOR
THE CIRCUMCISION.
1. Hence, hence profane, and none appear
With anything unhallowed here;
No jot of leaven must be found
Conceal'd in this most holy ground.
2. What is corrupt, or sour'd with sin,
Leave that without, then enter in;
Chor. But let no Christmas mirth begin
Before ye purge and circumcise
Your hearts, and hands, lips, ears, and eyes.
3. Then, like a perfum'd altar, see
That all things sweet and clean may be:
For here's a Babe that, like a bride,
Will blush to death if ought be spi'd
Ill-scenting, or unpurifi'd.
Chor. The room is 'cens'd: help, help t' invoke
Heaven to come down, the while we choke
The temple with a cloud of smoke.
4. Come then, and gently touch the birth
Of Him, who's Lord of Heaven and Earth: