Britten: A Ceremony of Carols, Op. 28: IX. In Freezing Winter Night

Behold, a silly tender babe,

In freezing winter night,

In homely manger trembling lies.

Alas, a piteous sight!

The inns are full no man will yield

This little pilgrim bed.

But forced he is with silly beasts

In crib to shroud his head.

This stable is a Prince's court,

This crib his chair of State

The beasts are parcel of his pomp,

The wooden dish his plate.

The persons in that poor attire

His royal liveries wear

The Prince himself is come from heaven

This pomp is prized there.

With joy approach, O Christian wight,

Do homage to thy King,

And highly praise his humble pomp,

wich he from Heaven doth bring.