(from Chapter X)
This Infant God deserves thy Ode, Come join the Angels Quite; And from the Altar of thy Heart, Ascend an hallowed Fire. To him who left his Royal Court, And chose a darksome House: This Majesty lays Glory by, For to espouse a Curse. And tho this Man from David sprang, He's pure without, within: And tho is made of Abraham's Seed, Hath no Orig'nal Sin. Pow'r Infinite can separate Between the Virgin's Sin, And Virgin's Seed, for there is need Christ be a holy Thing. The Virgin blest, lays Christ to rest; Then round the Courtly Stable Bright harness'd Angels guard the Lord, While in a Cribbee Cradle.
by Hercules Collins, 1696