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¶The Shepheards Song: a Caroll or Himne for Christmas.
SWeet Musicke, sweeter sarre
Then any Song is sweet:
Sweet Musicke heauenly rare,
Mine eares (O peeres) doth greete.
You gentle Flocks, whose fleeces pearl'd with dewe,
Resemble heauen, whom golden drops make bright:
Listen, O listen, now, O not to you
Our pipes make sport to shorten wearie night.
But voyces most diuine,
Make blisfull Harmonie:
Voyces that seeme to shine,
For what else cleares the skie?
Tunes can we heare, but not the Singers see:
The tunes diuine, and so the Singers be.
Loe how the firmament,
Within an azure fold:
The flock of starres hath pent,
That we might them behold.
Yet from their beames proceedeth not this light,
Nor can their Christals such reflection giue:
What then doth make the Element so bright?
The heauens are come downe vpon earth to liue.
But harken to the Song,
Glory to glories King:
And peace all men among,
These Queristers doe sing.
Angels they are, as also (Shepheards) hee,
Whom in our feare we doe admire to see.