No More Learning

Evil no nature hath; the loss of good
Is that which gives to sin a livelihood.



102. THE STAR-SONG: A CAROL TO THE KING SUNG AT WHITEHALL.

_The Flourish of Music; then followed the Song. _

1. Tell us, thou clear and heavenly tongue,
Where is the Babe but lately sprung?
Lies he the lily-banks among?

2. Or say, if this new Birth of ours
Sleeps, laid within some ark of flowers,
Spangled with dew-light; thou canst clear
All doubts, and manifest the where.

3. Declare to us, bright star, if we shall seek
Him in the morning's blushing cheek,
Or search the beds of spices through,
To find him out.

_Star. _ No, this ye need not do;
But only come and see Him rest
A Princely Babe in's mother's breast.

_Chor. _ He's seen, He's seen!
why then a round,
Let's kiss the sweet and holy ground;
And all rejoice that we have found
_A King before conception crown'd_.

4. Come then, come then, and let us bring
Unto our pretty Twelfth-tide King,
Each one his several offering;

_Chor. _ And when night comes, we'll give Him wassailing;
And that His treble honours may be seen,
We'll choose Him King, and make His mother Queen.


103. TO GOD.

With golden censers, and with incense, here
Before Thy virgin-altar I appear,
To pay Thee that I owe, since what I see
In, or without, all, all belongs to Thee.
Where shall I now begin to make, for one
Least loan of Thine, half restitution?
Alas! I cannot pay a jot; therefore
I'll kiss the tally, and confess the score.
Ten thousand talents lent me, Thou dost write;
'Tis true, my God, but I can't pay one mite.

_Tally_, the record of his score or debt.


104. TO HIS DEAR GOD.

I'll hope no more
For things that will not come;
And if they do, they prove but cumbersome.
Wealth brings much woe;
And, since it fortunes so,
'Tis better to be poor
Than so t' abound
As to be drown'd
Or overwhelm'd with store.