Now, Now, The Mirth Comes - The Hymns and Carols of Christmas

5. Ye must not be more pitifull then wise;
For, now unlesse ye see Him bleed,
Which makes the Bapti'me; 'tis decreed,
The Birth is fruitlesse: Chor. Then the work God speed.
1. Touch gently, gently touch; and here
Spring Tulips up through all the yeere;
And from His sacred Bloud, here shed,
May Roses grow, to crown His own deare Head.
Chor. Back, back again; each thing is done
With zeale alike, as 'twas begun;
Now singing, homeward let us carrie
The Babe unto His Mother Marie;
And when we have the Child commended
To her warm bosome, then our Rites are ended.
“Composed by M. Henry Lawes”
Christmas Poetry By Robert Herrick
Note: Herrick was not forgetful of his friends, and would compose the following, found in
Hesperides:
To M. Henry Lawes, the excellent
Composer of his Lyricks.
Touch but thy Lire (my Harrie) and I heare
From thee some raptures of the rare Gotire.
Then if thy voice commingle with the String
I heare in thee rare Laniere to sing;
Or curious Wilson: Tell me, canst thou be
Less then Apollo, that ursurp'st such Three?
Three, unto whom the whole world give applause;
Yet their Three praises, praise but One; that's Lawes.
This poem, “The New-yeers Gift,” was immediately preceded by “A Christmas Caroll,
sung to the King in the Presence at White-Hall” and followed by “Another New-yeers Gift, or
Song for the Circumcision.”
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