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Crowded like waves upon me, but he was
A part of all; and in the last he lay
Reposing from the noontide sultriness,
Couch'd among fallen columns, in the shade
Of ruin'd walls: where by his sleeping side
Stood camels grazing, and some goodly steeds
Were fastened near a fountain: and a man
Clad in a flowing garb did watch the while,
While many of his tribe slumbered around:
And they were canopied by the blue sky,
So cloudless, clear and purely beautiful,
That God alone was to be seen in Heaven.

Lord Byron.

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HYMN

ON THE MORNING OF CHRIST'S NATIVITY.

It was the winter wild,
While the Heaven-born Child

All meanly wrapped in the rude manger lies:
Nature in awe to Him
Had doffed her gaudy trim,

With her great Master so to sympathize: It was no season then for her To wanton with the sun, her lusty paramour. HYMNUS.

Stridebat auras sollicitans hiemps quom sordido velamine rustici praesepis in cunis iacebat

Patre Puer genitus supremo: cui laetum amictus exuerat decus Natura sorti morigerans Dei: non ilia lascivo protervam igne frui sinit hora solis.

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