On the morning of Christ's nativity

It was the Winter wild,

While the

Heaven born child,

All meanly wrapt in the rude manger lies;

Nature in awe to him

Had doffed her gaudy trim,

With her great Master so to sympathize:

And waving wide her myrtle wand,

She strikes a universal Peace through Sea and Land.

No war or battle's sound

Was heard the world around,

The idle spear and shield were high up hung;

The hookèd Chariot stood

Unstained with hostile blood,

The Trumpet spake not to the armèd throng,

And Kings sate still with aweful eye,

As if they surely knew their sovran Lord was by.

But peaceful was the night

Wherein the Prince of light

His reign of peace upon the earth began:

The winds, with wonder whist,

Smoothly the waters kissed,

Whispering new joys to the mild Ocean,

Who now hath quite forgot to rave,

While birds of calm sit brooding on the charmèd wave.