See what for our True Love is done:
Two turtledoves or pigeons young
For Him who broached the womb afresh,
Whom God begot, becoming flesh:
The Passover, from Egypt sprung,
Perfected in the virgin's Son.
There firstborn men and beasts were killed
That Israel's cup of grace be filled:
Those who by blood were set apart
Spared, from harsh bondage to depart.
Now with this custom see comply
The Lamb of God, marked out to die.
The Law's demands He underwent,
Yet for our guilt He was content
To give a gift of untold price:
Himself our paschal sacrifice.
Daubed with His offered blood are we,
From sin and death to set us free.
Now in these days of Christmas twelve,
For gifts that please our True Love delve:
In mercy, kindness, modesty,
In gentleness and patience be;
In pardon, love, thanksgiving, peace,
In word and deed God's praise increase.
French hens and partridges, begone!
Instead of allegory, song
Befits the babe brought forth to bear
The burden of our race's care.
With psalm and hymn, with heart and voice,
Dwell in the Word; in Christ rejoice!
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