The Hesperides & Noble Numbers Part 92

Our present tears here, not our present laughter, Are but the handsels of our joys hereafter.

_Handsels_, earnest money, foretaste.

91. SIN AND STRIFE.

After true sorrow for our sins, our strife Must last with Satan to the end of life.

92. AN ODE, OR PSALM TO G.o.d.

Dear G.o.d, If Thy smart rod Here did not make me sorry, I should not be With Thine or Thee In Thy eternal glory.

But since Thou didst convince My sins by gently striking; Add still to those First stripes new blows, According to Thy liking.

Fear me, Or scourging tear me; That thus from vices driven, I may from h.e.l.l Fly up to dwell With Thee and Thine in heaven.

93. GRACES FOR CHILDREN.

What G.o.d gives, and what we take, 'Tis a gift for Christ, His sake: Be the meal of beans and peas, G.o.d be thanked for those and these: Have we flesh, or have we fish, All are fragments from His dish.

He His Church save, and the king; And our peace here, like a spring, Make it ever flourishing.

94. G.o.d TO BE FIRST SERVED.

Honour thy parents; but good manners call Thee to adore thy G.o.d the first of all.

95. ANOTHER GRACE FOR A CHILD.

Here a little child I stand Heaving up my either hand; Cold as paddocks though they be, Here I lift them up to Thee, For a benison to fall On our meat and on us all. Amen.

_Paddocks_, frogs.

96. A CHRISTMAS CAROL SUNG TO THE KING IN THE PRESENCE AT WHITEHALL.

_Chor._ What sweeter music can we bring, Than a carol for to sing The birth of this our heavenly King?

Awake the voice! awake the string!

Heart, ear, and eye, and everything Awake! the while the active finger Runs division with the singer.

_FROM THE FLOURISH THEY CAME TO THE SONG._

1. Dark and dull night, fly hence away And give the honour to this day That sees December turn'd to May.

2. If we may ask the reason, say The why and wherefore all things here Seem like the spring-time of the year.

3. Why does the chilling winter's morn Smile like a field beset with corn?

Or smell like to a mead new shorn, Thus, on the sudden?

4. Come and see The cause, why things thus fragrant be: 'Tis He is born, whose quick'ning birth Gives life and l.u.s.tre, public mirth, To heaven and the under-earth.

_Chor._ We see Him come, and know Him ours, Who, with His sunshine and His showers, Turns all the patient ground to flowers.

1. The darling of the world is come, And fit it is we find a room To welcome Him.

2. The n.o.bler part Of all the house here is the heart,

_Chor._ Which we will give Him; and bequeath This holly and this ivy wreath, To do Him honour; who's our King, And Lord of all this revelling.

_The musical part was composed by M. Henry Lawes._

_Division_, a rapid pa.s.sage of music sung in one breath or a single syllable.

97. THE NEW-YEAR'S GIFT: OR, CIRc.u.mCISION'S SONG. SUNG TO THE KING IN THE PRESENCE AT WHITEHALL.

1. Prepare for songs; He's come, He's come; And be it sin here to be dumb, And not with lutes to fill the room.

2. Cast holy water all about, And have a care no fire goes out, But 'cense the porch and place throughout.

3. The altars all on fire be; The storax fries; and ye may see How heart and hand do all agree To make things sweet. _Chor._ Yet all less sweet than He.

4. Bring Him along, most pious priest, And tell us then, whenas thou seest His gently-gliding, dove-like eyes, And hear'st His whimpering and His cries; How can'st thou this Babe circ.u.mcise?

5. Ye must not be more pitiful than wise; For, now unless ye see Him bleed, Which makes the bapti'm, 'tis decreed The birth is fruitless. _Chor._ Then the work G.o.d speed.

1. Touch gently, gently touch; and here Spring tulips up through all the year; And from His sacred blood, here shed, May roses grow to crown His own dear head.

_Chor._ Back, back again; each thing is done With zeal alike, as 'twas begun; Now singing, homeward let us carry The Babe unto His mother Mary; And when we have the Child commended To her warm bosom, then our rites are ended.

_Composed by M. Henry Lawes._

98. ANOTHER NEW-YEAR'S GIFT: OR, SONG FOR THE CIRc.u.mCISION.

1. Hence, hence profane, and none appear With anything unhallowed here; No jot of leaven must be found Conceal'd in this most holy ground.

2. What is corrupt, or sour'd with sin, Leave that without, then enter in;

_Chor._ But let no Christmas mirth begin Before ye purge and circ.u.mcise Your hearts, and hands, lips, ears, and eyes.

3. Then, like a perfum'd altar, see That all things sweet and clean may be: For here's a Babe that, like a bride, Will blush to death if ought be spi'd Ill-scenting, or unpurifi'd.

_Chor._ The room is 'cens'd: help, help t' invoke Heaven to come down, the while we choke The temple with a cloud of smoke.

4. Come then, and gently touch the birth Of Him, who's Lord of Heaven and Earth:

5. And softly handle Him; y'ad need, Because the pretty Babe does bleed.

Poor pitied Child! who from Thy stall Bring'st, in Thy blood, a balm that shall Be the best New-Year's gift to all.