Second Shepherd:
Aye, dost see that great star
That hangs above the town?
First Shepherd:
’Tis a wondrous star even as ever I saw.
But I am wearied sore;
So wearied I have never been before.
Enter Third Shepherd
Third Shepherd:
Look ye, here is a lamb, new born.
Second Shepherd:
Poor little beastie! Lay it down and warm it.
Third Shepherd:
An ill night to be born in! Frost and snow,
Cold heaven above, cold earth below.
I marvel any little creature should be born
On such a night. I found it all forlorn,
Crying beside its mother.
Second Shepherd:
Warm it in thy cloak. ’Tis but a little lamb.
First Shepherd:
Hark! is that the sky that sings?
Second Shepherd:
Nay, I hear no sound at all.
You are wearied. Mile and mile you’ve trudged to-day.