Arthur Quiller-Couch, ed. 1919. The Oxford Book of English Verse: 1250–1900.
Robert Southwell. 156195109. The Burning Babe
AS I in hoary winter’s night | |
Stood shivering in the snow, | |
Surprised I was with sudden heat | |
Which made my heart to glow; | |
And lifting up a fearful eye | 5 |
To view what fire was near, | |
A pretty babe all burning bright | |
Did in the air appear; | |
Who, scorchèd with excessive heat, | |
Such floods of tears did shed, | 10 |
As though His floods should quench His flames, | |
Which with His tears were bred: | |
‘Alas!’ quoth He, ‘but newly born | |
In fiery heats I fry, | |
Yet none approach to warm their hearts | 15 |
Or feel my fire but I! | |
‘My faultless breast the furnace is; | |
The fuel, wounding thorns; | |
Love is the fire, and sighs the smoke; | |
The ashes, shames and scorns; | 20 |
The fuel Justice layeth on, | |
And Mercy blows the coals, | |
The metal in this furnace wrought | |
Are men’s defilèd souls: | |
For which, as now on fire I am | 25 |
To work them to their good, | |
So will I melt into a bath, | |
To wash them in my blood.’ | |
With this He vanish’d out of sight | |
And swiftly shrunk away, | 30 |
And straight I callèd unto mind | |
That it was Christmas Day. |