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The Festival Of St Nicholas
MARY MAPES DODGE We all know how, before the Christm...

The Glad Evangel
KATE DOUGLAS WIGGIN When the Child of Nazareth w...

Old Father Christmas
J. H. EWING THE custom of Christmas-trees came fro...

Little Gretchen And The Wooden Shoe
ELIZABETH HARRISON THE following story is one of m...

A Christmas Carmen
JOHN G. WHITTIER I Sound over all wat...

Ceremonies For Christmas
ROBERT HERRICK Come, bring with a noise, ...

A Christmas Carol
CHARLES DICKENS MASTER Peter, and the two ubiquito...





New Prince New Pomp






ROBERT SOUTHWELL

Behold a simple, 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 praised there.

With joy approach, O Christian wight!
Do homage to thy King;
And highly praise this humble pomp,
Which he from heaven doth bring.





Next: The Three Kings

Previous: Hymn For Christmas



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