He is a path, if any be misled;
      He is a robe, if any naked be;
    If any chance to hunger, he is bread;
      If any be a bondman, he is free;
      If any be but weak, how strong is he! 
    To dead men life he is, to sick men health,
    To blind men sight, and to the needy wealth;
  A pleasure without loss, a treasure without stealth.

    Who can forget—­never to be forgot—­
      The time that all the world in slumber lies,
    When like the stars the singing angels shot
      To earth, and heaven awaked all his eyes
      To see another sun at midnight rise? 
    On earth was never sight of peril fame; pareil:  equal.
    For God before man like himself did frame,
  But God himself now like a mortal man became.

* * * * *

    The angels carolled loud their song of peace;
      The cursed oracles were stricken 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,
    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.

No doubt there are here touches of execrable taste, such as the punning trick with man and manners, suggesting a false antithesis; or the opposition of the words deprave and deprive; but we have in them only an instance of how the meretricious may co-exist with the lovely.  The passage is fine and powerful, notwithstanding its faults and obscurities.

Here is another yet more beautiful: 

  So down the silver streams of Eridan,[90]
      On either side banked with a lily wall,
    Whiter than both, rides the triumphant swan,
      And sings his dirge, and prophesies his fall,
      Diving into his watery funeral! 
    But Eridan to Cedron must submit
    His flowery shore; nor can he envy it,
  If, when Apollo sings, his swans do silent sit.[91]

    That heavenly voice I more delight to hear
      Than gentle airs to breathe; or swelling waves
    Against the sounding rocks their bosoms tear;[92]
      Or whistling reeds that rutty[93] Jordan laves,
      And with their verdure his white head embraves; adorns.
    To chide the winds; or hiving bees that fly
    About the laughing blossoms[94] of sallowy,[95]
  Rocking asleep the idle grooms[96] that lazy lie.

    And yet how can I hear thee singing go,
      When men, incensed with hate, thy death foreset? 
    Or else, why do I hear thee sighing so,
      When thou, inflamed with love, their life dost get,[97]
      That love and hate, and sighs and songs are met? 
    But thus, and only thus, thy love did crave
    To send thee singing for us to thy grave,
  While we sought thee to kill, and thou sought’st us to save.