But he hath other waiters now: A poor cow An ox and mule stand and behold, And wonder That a stable should enfold Him that can thunder.
_Chorus_.

O what a gracious God have we! How good?
How great?
Even as our misery.
A HYMN FOR CHRISTMAS-DAY.
Awake, my soul, and come away; Put on thy best array, Lest if thou longer stay, Thou lose some minutes of so blest a day.
Go run, And bid good-morrow to the sun; Welcome his safe return To Capricorn, And that great morn Wherein a God was born, Whose story none can tell But he whose every word's a miracle.
To-day Almightiness grew weak; The Word itself was mute, and could not speak.
That Jacob's star which made the sun To dazzle if he durst look on, Now mantled o'er in Bethlehem's night, Borrowed a star to show him light.
He that begirt each zone, To whom both poles are one, Who grasped the zodiac in his hand, And made it move or stand, Is now by nature man, By stature but a span; Eternity is now grown short; A king is born without a court; The water thirsts; the fountain's dry; And life, being born, made apt to die.
_Chorus._ Then let our praises emulate and vie With his humility! Since he's exiled from skies That we might rise,-- From low estate of men Let's sing him up again! Each man wind up his heart To bear a part In that angelic choir, and show His glory high, as he was low.
Let's sing towards men goodwill and charity, Peace upon earth, glory to God on high! Hallelujah! Hallelujah! THE PRAYER.
My soul doth pant towards thee, My God, source of eternal life.
Flesh fights with me: Oh end the strife, And part us, that in peace I may Unclay My wearied spirit, and take My flight to thy eternal spring, Where, for his sake Who is my king, I may wash all my tears away, That day.
Thou conqueror of death, Glorious triumpher o'er the grave, Whose holy breath Was spent to save Lost mankind, make me to be styled Thy child, And take me when I die And go unto my dust; my soul Above the sky With saints enrol, That in thy arms, for ever, I May lie.
This last is quite regular, that is, the second stanza is arranged precisely as the first, though such will not appear to be the case without examination: the disposition of the lines, so various in length, is confusing though not confused.
In these poems will be found that love of homeliness which is characteristic of all true poets--and orators too, in as far as they are poets.

The meeting of the homely and the grand is heaven.

One more.
A PRAYER FOR CHARITY.
Full of mercy, full of love, Look upon us from above; Thou who taught'st the blind man's night To entertain a double light, Thine and the day's--and that thine too: The lame away his crutches threw; The parched crust of leprosy Returned unto its infancy; The dumb amazed was to hear His own unchain'd tongue strike his ear; Thy powerful mercy did even chase The devil from his usurped place, Where thou thyself shouldst dwell, not he: Oh let thy love our pattern be; Let thy mercy teach one brother To forgive and love another; That copying thy mercy here, Thy goodness may hereafter rear Our souls unto thy glory, when Our dust shall cease to be with men.

_Amen._.