Say, heavenly Muse, shall not thy sacred vein
    Afford a present to the Infant God? 
  Hast thou no verse, no hymn, or solemn strain,
    To welcome him to this his new abode,
    Now, while the heaven, by the Sun’s team untrod,
  Hath took no print of the approaching light,
And all the spangled host keep watch in squadrons bright?

IV.

  See how from far upon the eastern road
    The star-led wizards haste with odours sweet! 
  Oh! run, prevent them with thy humble ode,
    And lay it lowly at his blessed feet;
    Have thou the honour first thy Lord to greet,
  And join thy voice unto the angel quire,
From out his secret altar touched with hallowed fire.

THE HYMN.

I.

      It was the winter wild,
      While the heaven-born child
  All meanly wrapt in the rude manger lies;
      Nature in awe to him
      Had doffed her gaudy trim,
  With her great Master so to sympathize. 
    It was no season then for her
To wanton with the Sun her lusty paramour.

II.

      Only with speeches fair
      She woos the gentle air
  To hide her guilty front with innocent snow,
      And on her naked shame,
      Pollute with sinful blame,
  The saintly veil of maiden-white to throw,
    Confounded, that her Maker’s eyes
Should look so near upon her foul deformities.

III.

      But he, her fears to cease,
      Sent down the meek-eyed Peace;
  She, crowned with olive-green, came softly sliding
      Down through the turning sphere,
      His ready harbinger,
  With turtle wing the amorous clouds dividing;
    And, waving wide her myrtle wand,
She strikes an universal peace through sea and land.

IV.

      No war or battle’s sound
      Was heard the world around;
  The idle spear and shield were high up hung;
      The hooked chariot stood,
      Unstained with hostile blood;
  The trumpet spake not to the armed throng;
    And kings sat still with awful eye,
As if they surely knew their sovran Lord was by.

V.

      But peaceful was the night,
      Wherein the Prince of Light
  His reign of peace upon the earth began. 
      The winds, with wonder whist,
      Smoothly the waters kissed,
  Whispering new joys to the mild ocean,
    Who now hath quite forgot to rave,
While birds of calm sit brooding on the charmed wave.

VI.