For well they now can spare their wing, Since Heavn itself lyes here below.

60

Well done, said I; but are you sure Your down so warm, will passe for pure? Chorus. Well done, sayd I.

TITYRUS.

No, no! your King's not yet to seeke

Where to repose His royall head;

See, see! how soon His new-bloom'd cheek

Twixt's mother's brests is gone to bed.

Sweet choise, said we ! no way but so

Not to ly cold, yet sleep in snow.

Chorus.

Sweet choise, said we.

BOTH.

We saw Thee in Thy baulmy nest,

65

70

Bright dawn of our æternall Day!

We saw Thine eyes break from their East

75

And chase the trembling shades away.

We saw Thee and we blest the sight,

We saw Thee, by Thine Own sweet light.

Wellcome, all wonders in one sight!

Eternity shutt in a span!

Sommer in Winter, Day in Night! Heauen in Earth, and God in man!

VOL. I.

L

80

Great, little One! Whose all-embracing birth Lifts Earth to Heauen, stoopes Heau'n to Earth.

Wellcome, though not to gold nor silk,

To more then Caesar's birth-right is ;

Two sister seas of virgin-milk,

85

With many a rarely-temper'd kisse,

That breathes at once both maid and mother,

Warmes in the one, cooles in the other.

OO

Shee sings Thy tears asleep, and dips

Her kisses in Thy weeping eye;

She spreads the red leaves of Thy lips, That in their buds yet blushing lye:

She 'gainst those mother-diamonds, tries

The points of her young eagle's eyes.

Wellcome, though not to those gay flyes, Guilded i' th' beames of earthly kings;

Slippery soules in smiling eyes:

But to poor shepheards' home spun things;
Whose wealth's their flock; whose witt, to

be

Well-real in their simplicity.

Yet when young April's husband-showrs Shall blesse the fruitfull Maja's bed,

95

100

Wel bring the first-born of her flowrs

105

To kisse Thy feet and crown Thy head.

To Thee, dread Lamb! Whose loue must keep

The shepheards, more then they the sheep.

To Thee, meek Majesty! soft King Of simple Graces and sweet Loves: Each of vs his lamb will bring,

Each his pair of sylver doues :

Till burnt at last in fire of Thy fair eyes, Ourselues become our own best sacrifice.

110

NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.

In the SANCROFT Ms. the heading is simply 'A Hymne of the Nativitie sung by the Shepheards.' It furnishes these various readings, though it wants a good deal of our text (1652) :

'Officious'

'I saw the officions angells bring

The downe that their soft breasts did strow :
For well they now can spare their wings,

When heauen itselfe lies here below.

Faire youth (said I) be not too rough,

Thy downe (though soft)'s not soft enough,'

ready to do good offices: 'obsequious' obedient,

eager to serve.

Lines 65 to 68,

The Babe noe sooner 'gan to seeke

Where to lay His lonely head;

But streight His eyes advis'd His cheeke
"Twixt's mother's breasts to go to bed.'

79, Welcome to our wond'ring sight.'

83, glorious birth.'

6

85, not to gold' for nor to gold:' adopted.
96, 'points' pupils (?).

Lanes 101 to 103.

cleart hearts.'

while they feed the sheepe."

114, Weel burne

These variations agree with the text of 1646. See our Essay for critical remarks. G.

NEW YEAR'S DAY!

Rist, thou best and brightest morning!

Rosy with a double red;

With thine own blush thy cheeks adorning,

And the dear drops this day were shed.

All the purple pride, that laces

The crimson curtains of thy bed.

Guilds thee not with so sweet graces,

Nor setts thee in so rich a red.

Of all the fair cheek't flowrs that fill thee,

None so fair thy bosom strowes.

As this modest maiden lilly

Our sins haue sham'd into a rose.

1 Appeared originally in the 'Steps' of 1646 (pp. 94, 95), where it is headed An Himne for the Circumcision day of our Lord: reprinted in edition of 1618 (pp. 47, 48) with 'A' for An' in heading, and in the Carmen &c.' of 1652 (pp. 17, 18), being there entitled Simply New Year's Day,' and in the edition of 1670 (pp. 72-74). Our text is that of 1652, as before, but there are only slight differences besides the usual orthographical ones, in any. See Notes and Illustrations at close of the poem. G.

Bid thy golden gol, the sun. Burnisht in his best beames rise,

Put all his red-ey'd rabies on : These rubies shall putt out their eyes

Let him make poor the purple East Search what the world's close cabinets key, Rob the rich births of each bright mest That flaming in their fair beds sleep.

Let him embrane his own bright tresse With a new morning made of gemmes;

And wear, in those his wealthy dresses, Another day of diadems

When he hath done all he may To make himselfe rich in his rise.

All will be darknes to the day

That breakes from one of these bija ga

And soon this sweet truth shall appear. Dear Babe, ere many days e Arte;

The Morn shall come to met The im

And leaue her own neglected en

Here are beautyes shall berane bla

Of all his eastern paramotra.

His Persian louers all shall with

And swear faith to Thy swete prema;

Nor while they leave him shall they are ta but

But in Thy fairest eyes find two for one