This Little Babe

This song is really good.

Listen to it at YouTube...http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rzI73MngRaw

This Little Babe

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 this weak unarmèd 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 looks of weeping eyes,
His martial ensigns Cold and Need and feeble Flesh his warrior's steed.

His camp is pitchèd in a stall, his bulwark but a broken wall;
The crib his trench, haystacks his stakes; of shepherds he his muster makes;
And thus, as sure his foe to wound, the angels' trump alarum sound.

 My soul, with Christ join thou in fight;
Stick to the tents that he hath 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.

 Robert Southwell (1561-1595)