In Vain Doth Valour Bleed, While Avarice

His Rod Revers'd, And Backward Mutters Of Dissevering Power.

At His Birth A Star, Unseen Before In Heaven, Proclaims Him Come.

Tears Such As Angels Weep.

What Boots It At One Gate To Make Defence, And At Another To Let In The Foe?

He That Hath Light Within Their Own Breast, May Sit In The Centre And Enjoy Bright Day.