by Robert Southwell (1561? - 1595)
This little babe
Language: English
This little Babe so few days old is come to rifle Satan's fold; all hell doth at his presence quake though he himself for cold do shake; for in this weak unarmèd wise the gates of hell he will surprise. With tears he fights and wins the field, his naked breast stands for a shield; his battering shot are babish cries, his arrows looks of weeping eyes, his martial ensigns Cold and Need and feeble Flesh his warrior's steed. His camp is pitchèd in a stall, his bulwark but a broken wall; the crib his trench, haystacks his stakes; of shepherds he his muster makes; and thus, as sure his foe to wound, the angels' trump alarum sound. My soul, with Christ join thou in fight, stick to the tents that he hath pight. Within his crib is surest ward, this little Babe will be thy guard. If thou wilt foil thy foes with joy, then flit not from this heavenly Boy.
Text Authorship:
- by Robert Southwell (1561? - 1595) [author's text not yet checked against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
- by (Edward) Benjamin Britten (1913 - 1976), "This little babe", op. 28 no. 6 (1942) [ treble chorus, solo voices, and harp ], from A Ceremony of Carols, no. 6 [sung text checked 1 time]
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , "Ce petit bébé", copyright © 2015, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- GER German (Deutsch) (Bertram Kottmann) , "Dies kleine Kind", copyright © 2015, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Research team for this page: Grant Hicks [Guest Editor] , Tom White
This text was added to the website: 2007-10-01
Line count: 24
Word count: 162