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W. Garrett Horder, comp. The Poets’ Bible: New Testament. 1895.

New Prince, New Pomp

Robert Southwell (c. 1561–1595)

BEHOLD a silly, tender Babe,

In freezing winter night,

In homely manger trembling lies;

Alas! a piteous sight.

The inns are full; no man will yield

This little pilgrim bed;

But forced he is with silly beasts

In crib to shroud his head.

Despise Him not for lying there;

First what He is inquire:

An Orient pearl is often found

In depth of dirty mire.

Weigh not His crib, His wooden dish,

Nor beasts that by Him feed;

Weigh not His mother’s poor attire,

Nor Joseph’s simple weed.

This stable is a Prince’s court,

The crib His chair of state;

The beasts are parcel of His pomp,

The wooden dish His plate.

The persons in that poor attire

His royal liveries wear;

The Prince Himself is come from heaven:

This pomp is praised there.

With joy approach, O Christian wight!

Do homage to thy King;

And highly praise this humble pomp,

Which He from heaven doth bring.