George Herbert - ChristmasGeorge Herbert - Christmas
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After all pleasures as I rid one day,
My horse and I, both tir`d, bodie and minde,
With full crie of affections, quite astray;
I took up the next inne I could finde.
There when I came, whom found I but my deare,
My dearest Lord, expecting till the grief
Of pleasures brought me to him, readie there
To be all passengers` most sweet relief?
Oh Thou, whose glorious, yet contracted light,
Wrapt in Night`s mantle, stole into a manger;
Since my dark soul and brutish is thy right,
To Man of all beasts be not thou a stranger:
Furnish and deck my soul, that thou mayst have
A better lodging, then a rack, or grave.
The shepherds sing; and shall I silent be?
My God, no hymne for thee?
My soul`s a shepherd too: a flock it feeds
Of thoughts, and words, and deeds.
The pasture is thy word; the streams, thy grace
Enriching all the place.
Shepherd and flock shall sing, and all my powers
Out-sing the day-light houres.
Then will we chide the sunne for letting night
Take up his place and right:
We sing one common Lord; wherefore he should
Himself the candle hold.
I will go searching, till I finde a sunne
Shall stay, till we have done;
A willing shiner, that shall shine as gladly,
As frost-nipt sunnes look sadly.
Then will we sing, and shine all our own day,
And one another pay:
His beams shall cheer my breast, and both so twine,
Till ev`n His beams sing, and my musick shine.
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