36.

Gloria in Excelsis

Their angel carol sing we, then,
To God on high all glory be,
For peace on earth bestoweth He,
And sheweth favour unto men.

This favour Christ vouchsafed for our sake;
To buy us thrones, He in a manger lay;

Our weakness took, that we His strength might take;
And was disrobed that He might us array;

Our flesh He wore,

Our sin to wear away;

Our curse He bore,

That we escape it may;

And wept for us, that we might sing for aye.
With angels therefore, sing again,
To God on high all glory be,

For peace on earth bestoweth He,
And sheweth favour unto men.

GILES FLETCHER

WHO CAN FORGET?

HO can forget-never to be forgotThe time, that all the world in slumber lies, When, like the stars, the singing angels shot To earth, and heaven awakèd all his eyes To see another sun at midnight rise

On earth? Was never sight of pareil fame, For God before man like Himself did frame, But God Himself now like a mortal man became.

Who can Forget?

A Child He was, and had not learnt to speak,
That with His word the world before did make;
His mother's arms Him bore, He was so weak,
That with one hand the vaults of heaven could shake,
See how small room my infant Lord doth take,
Whom all the world is not enough to hold!
Who of His years, or of His age hath told?
Never such age so young, never a child so old.
And yet but newly He was infanted,
And yet already He was sought to die;
Yet scarcely born, already banished;
Not able yet to go, and forced to fly:
But scarcely fled away, when by and by
The tyrant's sword with blood is all defiled,
And Rachel, for her sons, with fury wild,
Cries, 'O thou cruel king, and O my sweetest child!'

Egypt His nurse became, where Nilus springs,

Who, straight to entertain the rising sun,

The hasty harvest in his bosom brings;

But now for drought the fields were all undone,
And now with waters all is overrun :

So fast the Cynthian mountains poured their snow, When once they felt the sun so near them glow, That Nilus Egypt lost, and to a sea did grow.

The angels carolled loud their song of peace;
The cursed oracles were strucken dumb;
To see their Shepherd the poor shepherds press;
To see their King the kingly sophies come;
And them to guide unto his Master's home,

Who can Forget?

A star comes dancing up the orient,

That springs for joy over the strawy tent,

Where gold, to make their Prince a crown, they all

present.

GILES FLETCHER

37.

A CHRISTMAS CAROL

[Sung to the King in the Presence at Whitehall.]
Chorus.

WH

HAT sweeter music can we bring
Than a carol, for to sing

The birth of this our heavenly King?
Awake the voice! awake the string!
Heart, ear, and eye, and every thing
Awake! the while the active finger
Runs division with the singer.

[From the flourish they come to the song.]
1. Dark and dull night, fly hence away,
And give the honour to this day,
That sees December turn'd to May.

2. If we may ask the reason, say

The why and wherefore all things here
Seem like the spring-time of the year?

3. Why does the chilling winter's morn

Smile like a field beset with corn?
Or smell like to a mead new shorn,

Thus on the sudden? 4. Come and see
The cause why things thus fragrant be:

A Christmas Carol

'Tis He is born whose quickening birth
Gives life and lustre, public mirth,
To heaven and the under-earth.

Chorus.

We see Him come, and know Him ours,
Who with His sunshine and His showers
Turns all the patient ground to flowers.

1. The Darling of the world is come,
And fit it is we find a room

38.

To welcome Him. 2. The nobler part
Of all the house here is the heart.

Chorus.

Which we will give Him; and bequeath
This holly and this ivy wreath,

To do Him honour; who's our King,
And Lord of all this revelling.

ROBERT HERRICK

AN ODE ON THE BIRTH OF
OUR SAVIOUR

'N numbers, and but these few,

I sing Thy birth, O Jesu!

Thou pretty Baby, born here
With sup❜rabundant scorn here:
Who for Thy princely port here,
Hadst for Thy place

Of birth, a base

Out-stable for Thy court here.

An Ode on the Birth of our Saviour

Instead of neat enclosures
Of interwoven osiers,
Instead of fragrant posies
Of daffodils and roses,

Thy cradle, kingly Stranger,
As gospel tells,

Was nothing else

But here a homely manger.

But we with silks, not crewels,
With sundry precious jewels,
And lily work will dress Thee;
And, as we dispossess Thee
Of clouts, we'll make a chamber,
Sweet Babe, for Thee,

Of ivory,

And plastered round with amber.

The Jews they did disdain Thee,
But we will entertain Thee,
With glories to await here
Upon Thy princely state here,
And more for love than pity.
From year to year

We'll make Thee here

A free-born of our city.

ROBERT HERRICK

1