Saint Stephen and Herod

A virgin pure was risen on earth,
The rose of womankind,
The fairest maid in all this world,
For Queen of heaven designed.

Her cheeks were like the roses red,
Her neck as ermine fair;
Because so sweet a maid she was,
Our Lord was she to bear.

In glory th' angel Gabriel came,
To Mary sent was he;
"Tis from the Lord of hosts I come,
"Christ's mother you shall be."

Answer the pious Mary -made,
As God put in her mind;
"His holy will be done: in me
"His handmaid he shall find."

For two score weeks with child she went
Without or pain or care;
On Yule-night, by His own high will,
Her blessed Lord she bare.

Saint Stephen saw the star's bright shine,
As he his horses drave;
"Of truth is now the Prophet born,
"Who all the world shall save."

"On Stephen's tale," King Herod said,
"No faith will I bestow,
"Unless this roasted cock stand up,
"And clap his wings and crow."

Straight clapp'd his wings the cock, and crow'd,
"Our Lord is born to-night"
From off his throne King Herod fell,
And swoon'd away for fright.

Uprose the King and mounted horse,
To Bethlehem town to ride;
He fain that little child would kill,
Which all his power defied.

But Mary took in arms her babe,
Joseph his ass's rein,
And so through Jewish land they rode
To Egypt's sandy plain.

Full fourteen thousand babies small
The tyrant caused to slay;
Jesus, ere sank the sun to rest,
Was thirty miles away.