¶ On Christ's Nativity expected.
WHen, blessed Lord, shall we
Our safe Salvation see?
Dear Lord, arise,
For our saint eyes
Have long'd all night, and 'twas a long night too:
Poor man could never say,
He saw more than a day,
One day of Edeu's seven;
The guilty hours were blasted with the breath
Of sin and death,
And have e're since worn a Nocturnal hue.
But in thy birth is hopes, that we
At length a splendid day shall see.
Wherein each poor neglected place,
Grac'd with the Aspect of thy face,
Shall glister like the porch and gate of Heav'n.
How long, bless'd Lord, how long?
The Nations thirst, and throng:
All humane kinde
Are now combinde
Into one body, wanting thee, their Head.
Large is our multitude,
And almost vile and rude,
Headless, Great God, for lack of thee,
Unhappy for the want of thy bless'd face;
Then come apace,
And thy bright self to our dull body wed,
That thorough thy Almighty power,
Each part that hath confusion wore,
May order take, so to appear
Fresh as the dawning of the year,
When thou, dear Lord, shalt so united be.