Louise Imogen Guiney (1861–1920)

THE OX he openeth wide the Doore,

And from the Snowe he calls her inne;

And he hath seen her smile therefore,

Our Ladye without sinne.

Now soone from Sleepe

A Starre shall leap,

And soone arrive both King and Hinde:

Amen, Amen;

But O the Place co’d I but finde!

The Ox hath husht his Voyce and bent

Trewe eye of Pitty ore the Mow;

And on his lovelie Neck, forspent

The Blessèd lays her Browe.

Around her feet

Full warme and sweete

His bowerie Breath doth meeklie dwell;

Amen, Amen;

But sore am I with Vaine Travel!

The Ox is host in Juda’s stall,

And Host of more than onely one;

For close she gathereth withal

Our Lorde, her little Sonne.

Glad Hinde and King

Their Gyfte may bring,

But wo’d to-night my Teares were there;

Amen, Amen;

Between her Bosome and His hayre!