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In every inn, but could not win A lodging, thus was left forlorn
In wofull state with her dear mate, Yet there our Saviour Christ was born.
So that at last they were constrained
In a stable to be laid, Her humble bed she not refused,
But implored Heaven's aid ; She meekly was with ox and ass
Accompanied, yet took no scorn ; No midwife's aid to help her staid,
Yet there our Saviour Christ was born.
No ornaments, nor robes of honour
Had this King of Kings to dress him ; No princely train in sumptuous manner
Came their services to press him : No musick sweet did rock to sleep
This princely Child upon that morn, But his dear Mother, and no other
Present was when he was born.
No cradle had our blessed Saviour, Yet was Lord of Heaven and Earth,
Like a poor distressed stranger He receives a beggar's birth. |
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