Behold, a silly tender babe in freezing winter night
In homely manger trembling lies; alas, a piteous sight!

The inns are full, no man will yield this little pilgrim bed
But forced he is with silly beasts, in crib to shroud his head

This stable is a Prince's court, this crib his chair of State;
The beasts are parcel of his pomp, this wooden dish his plate

The persons in that poor attire his royal liveries wear;
The Prince himself is come from Heav'n; this pomp is prizèd there

With joy approach o Christian wight, do homage to thy King;
And highly praise his humble pomp, which he from Heav'n doth bring