Edward Farr, ed. Select Poetry of the Reign of Queen Elizabeth. 1845.
Christmas CarolCXVIII. Anonymous
M
Be still, my blessed babe, though cause thou hast to mourne,
Whose blood most innocent the cruell king hath sworne;
And lo! alas! behold! what slaughter he doth make,
Shedding the blood of infants all, sweet Sauiour, for thy sake.
A King is born, they say, which King this king would kill:
Oh! woe, and woefull heauy day, when wretches haue their will!
To each unknowen, with offerings great, by guiding of a starre;
As shepherds heard the song, which angels bright did sing,
Giving all glory unto God for coming of this King,
Which must be made away—king Herod would him kill;
Oh! woe, and woefull heauy day, when wretches haue their will!
From furie thou shalt step aside, helpe haue we still in store:
We heauenly warning haue some other soyle to seeke;
From death must fly the Lord of life, as lamb both milde and meeke:
Thus must my babe obey the king that would him kill:
Oh! woe, and woefull heauy day, when wretches haue their will!
And prophets prophesied***
Whom caytiues none can ’traye, whom tyrants none can kill:
Oh! joy and joyfull happy day, when wretches want their will!