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A Christmas Hymn
ALFRED DOMETT It was the calm and silent nig...

A Christmas Fairy
JOHN STRANGE WINTER IT was getting very near to Ch...

Christmas
(A Selection from Dreamthorp) ALEXANDER SMITH Sit...

Sly Santa Claus
MRS. C.S. STONE All the house was asleep, ...

So Now Is Come Our Joyfulst Feast
GEORGE WITHER So, now is come our joyfulst f...

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

Christmas Day
CHARLES WESLEY Hark! the herald angels sing ...





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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