Heavenly boy

This little babe so few days old

Is come to rifle Satan's fold

All hell doth at his presence quake

Though he himself for cold do shake

For in his weak unarmed wise

The gates of hell he will surprise

With tears he fights and wins the field

His naked breast stands for a shield

His battering shot are babish cries

His arrows made of weeping eyes

His martial ensigns cold and need

And feeble flesh his warrior's steed

His camp is pitched in a stall

His bulwark but a broken wall

The crib his trench, haystalks his stakes

Of shepherds he his muster makes

And thus as sure his foe to wound

The angels trumps alarum sounds

My soul with Christ join thou in fight

Stick to the tents that he has pight

Within his crib is surest ward

This little babe will be thy guard

If thou wilt foil thy foes with joy

Then flit not from this heavenly boy

Un vrai Noël à vous tous.