His chilling cold doth heat require, Come, Seraphim, in lieu of fire; This little ark no cover hath, Let Cherubs’ wings His body swathe; Come, Raphael, this Babe must eat, Provide our little Tobie meat. Let Gabriel be now His groom, That first took up His earthly room; Let Michael stand in His defence, Whom love hath linked to feeble sense; Let Graces rock when He doth cry, And Angels sing His lullaby. The same you saw in heavenly seat Is He that now sucks Mary’s teat; Agnize[32] your King a mortal wight, His borrowed weeds lets[33] not your sight; Come, kiss the manger where He lies; That is your bliss above the skies. This little Babe so few days old Is come to rifle Satan’s fold, All hell doth at His presence quake, Though He Himself for cold do shake; For in this weak unarmèd wise The gates of hell He will surprise. With tears He fights and wins the field, His naked breast stands for a shield; His battering shot are babish cries; His arrows, looks of weeping eyes; His martial ensigns, cold and need; And feeble flesh His warrior’s steed. His camp is pitchèd in a stall, His bulwark but a broken wall, His crib His trench, hay-stalks His stakes, Of shepherds He His muster takes; And thus, as sure His foe to wound, The angels’ trumps alarum sound. My soul, with Christ join thou in fight; Stick to the tents that He hath pight; Within His crib is surest ward, This little Babe will be thy guard; If thou wilt foil thy foes with joy, Then flit not from this heavenly Boy. ROBERT SOUTHWELL [32] Acknowledge. [33] Hinders. 26. A CHILD MY CHOICE Let folly praise that fancy loves, I praise and love that Child, Whose heart no thought, whose tongue no word, Whose head no deed defiled. I praise Him most, I love Him best, All praise and love is His; While Him I love, in Him I live, And cannot live amiss. Love’s sweetest mark, laud’s highest theme, Man’s most desirèd light, To love Him life, to leave Him death, To live in Him delight. He mine by gift, I His by debt, Thus each to other due, First friend He was, best friend He is, All times will try Him true. Though young, yet wise; though small, yet strong; Though man, yet God He is; As wise He knows, as strong He can, As God He loves to bless. His knowledge rules, His strength defends, His love doth cherish all; His birth our joy, His life our light, His death our end of thrall. Alas! He weeps, He sighs, He pants, Yet doth His angels sing; Out of His tears, His sighs and throbs, Doth bud a joyful spring.