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Christmas
#1
Christmas

All after pleasures as I rid one day,
My horse and I, both tir'd, body and mind,
With full cry of affections, quite astray;
I took up in the next inn I could find.
There when I came, whom found I but my dear,
My dearest Lord, expecting till the grief
Of pleasures brought me to Him, ready there
To be all passengers' most sweet relief?
O Thou, whose glorious, yet contracted light,
Wrapt in night's mantle, stole into a manger,
Since my dark sould and brutish is Thy right,
To Man of all beasts be not thou a stranger:
Furnish and deck my soul, that thou mayst have
A better lodging than a rack or grave.
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