I saw the curled drops, soft and slow, Come hovering o’er the place’s head, Off’ring their whitest sheets of snow, To furnish the fair infant’s bed. Forbear, said I, be not too bold, Your fleece is white, but ’tis too cold. _Thyrsis_ I saw th’ obsequious seraphim Their rosy fleece of fire bestow, For well they now can spare their wings, Since Heaven itself lies here below. Well done, said I; but are you sure Your down, so warm, will pass for pure? _Chorus_. Well done, said I; but are you sure Your down, so warm, will pass for pure? _Both_ No, no, your King’s not yet to seek Where to repose His royal head; See, see how soon His new-bloomed cheek ’Twixt mother’s breasts is gone to bed. Sweet choice, said we; no way but so, Not to lie cold, yet sleep in snow! _Chorus_. Sweet choice, said we; no way but so, Not to lie cold, yet sleep in snow! _Full Chorus_ Welcome all wonders in one sight! Eternity shut in a span! Summer in winter! day in night! _Chorus_ Heaven in earth! and God in man! Great little one, whose all-embracing birth Lifts earth to Heaven, stoops Heaven to earth, Welcome, tho’ nor to gold, nor silk, To more than Cæsar’s birthright is: Two sister seas of virgin’s milk, With many a rarely-tempered kiss, That breathes at once both maid and mother, Warms in the one, cools in the other. She sings Thy tears asleep, and dips Her kisses in Thy weeping eye; She spreads the red leaves of Thy lips, That in their buds yet blushing lie. She ’gainst those mother diamonds tries The points of her young eagle’s eyes. Welcome—tho’ not to those gay flies, Gilded i’ th’ beams of earthly kings, Slippery souls in smiling eyes— But to poor shepherds, homespun things, Whose wealth’s their flocks, whose wit’s to be Well read in their simplicity. Yet, when young April’s husband show’rs Shall bless the fruitful Maia’s bed, We’ll bring the first-born of her flowers, To kiss Thy feet and crown Thy head. To Thee, dread Lamb! whose love must keep The shepherds while they feed their sheep. To Thee, meek Majesty, soft King Of simple graces and sweet loves! Each of us his lamb will bring, Each his pair of silver doves! At last, in fire of Thy fair eyes, Ourselves become our own best sacrifice! MUSIC’S DUEL