Book IV, 48: On our blessed Saviour

O Thou that wert the King of heav'n and earth,
How poorely wert thou attended at thy Birth!
A Manger was thy Cradle, And a Stable
Thy Privy Chamber, Marye's knees thy Table;
Theeves were thy Courtiers, & the Cross, thy Throne;
Thy Dyet, Gall; A wreath of Thornes, thy Crowne:
All this, the King of Glory endur'd, and more,
To make us Kings that were but Slaves before.