1 Come, see a little tender babe,
in freezing winter night,
who in a manger trembling lies,
a sad and sorry sight.

2 The inns are full, and none will give
this little pilgrim bed,
but forced is he among the beasts
in crib to shroud his head.

3 Despise him not for lying there;
first, what he is enquire:
an orient pearl is often found
in depths of dirty mire.

4 Judge not his crib, his wooden dish,
nor beasts that by him feed;
judge not his mother's poor attire,
nor Joseph's manner heed.

5 This stable is a prince's court,
this crib his chair of state;
the beasts are part of all his pomp,
the dish his royal plate.

6 The persons in that poor attire
his royal liveries wear;
the Prince himself has come from heaven
such pomp is valued there.

7 With joy approach, O Christian soul,
do homage to your king;
and highly praise his humble birth,
and of his glory sing!

Michael Perry (Word and Music) (1942 - 1996) version of Behold a silly, tender babe , Robert Southwell (1561 - 1595)
© Word and Music/Jubilate Hymns Ltd