As I in hoary winter's night stood shivering in the snow,
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Surprised I was with sudden heat which made my heart to glow ;
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And lifting up a fearful eye to view what fire was near,
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A pretty babe all burning bright did in the air appear ;
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Who, scorchAĦìd with excessive heat, such floods of tears did shed
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As though his floods should quench his flames which with his tears were fed.
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Alas, quoth he, but newly born in fiery heats I fry,
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Yet none approach to warm their hearts or feel my fire but I!
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My faultless breast the furnace is, the fuel wounding thorns,
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Love is the fire, and sighs the smoke, the ashes shame and scorns ;
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The fuel justice layeth on, and mercy blows the coals,
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The metal in this furnace wrought are men's defilAĦ§d souls,
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For which, as now on fire I am to work them to their good,
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So will I melt into a bath to wash them in my blood.
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With this he vanished out of sight and swiftly shrunk away,
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And straight I callAĦ§d unto mind that it was Christmas day.
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The Burning Babe
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| Sting & Police |
