<T On the morning of CHRISTS>
<T Nativity.> Compos'd 1629.
THis is the Month, and this the happy morn
Wherin the Son of Heav'ns eternal King,
Of wedded Maid, and Virgin Mother born,
Car great redemption from above did bring;
For @o the holy @ages once did @ing,
That he our deadly forfeit @hould release,
And with his Father work us a perpetual peace.
That glorious Form, that Light un@ufferable,
And that far-beaming blaze of Maje@ty,
Wherwith he wont at Heav'ns high Councel-Table,
To @it the mid@t of Trinal Unity,
He laid a@ide; and here with us to be,
For@ook the Courts of everla@ting Day,
And cho@e with us a dark@om Hou@e of mortal Clay.
Say Heav'nly Mu@e, @hall not thy @acred vein
Afford a per@ent to the Infant God?
Ha@t thou no vers, no hymn, or @olemn @trein,
To welcom him to this his new abode,
Now while the Heav'n by the Suns team untrod,
Hath took no print of te approching . . .