Merry Christmas from von Lehe Creative.
This Little Babe
Words by Robert Southwell (1561-1595)
Music by Benjamin Britten (1913-1976)
This little Babe so few days old, Is come to rifle Satan’s fold;
All hell doth at his presence quake, though he himself for cold do shake;
For in this weak unarmed wise The gates of hell he will surprise.
With tears he fights and wins the field, His naked breast stands for a shield;
His battring shot are babish cries, His arrows looks of weeping eyes,
His martial ensigns Cold and Need; And feeble Flesh his warrior’s steed.
His camp is pitched in a stall, His bulwark but a broken wall;
The crib his trench, haystalks his stakes; Of shepherds he his muster makes;
And thus, as sure his foe to wound, The angels’ trumps alarum sound.
My soul, with Christ join thou in fight; Stick to the tents that he hath pight.
Within his crib is surest ward; This little Babe will be thy guard.
If thou wilt foil thy foes with joy, then flit not from this heavenly Boy.
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Image may be NSFW.Clik here to view.
