A Christmas carol
A. Bliss
Come browse, my goats, Christ's manger hay,
Come, browse, in Christmas peace and love -
Ye that on Summer's green hills stray,
Or by her rain-flushed river rove!
"We fear to browse": my brown goats say,
"A white dog snarls Christ's bed above -
White dog with four flesh-meals a day -
He likes it not that goats he drove
Should munch God's meal.
He will not move."