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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=508135" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Burning Babe</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=508135" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">AS I in hoary winter's night <br>   Stood shivering in the snow, <br>Surprised I was with sudden heat <br>   Which made my heart to glow; <br>And lifting up a fearful eye <br>   To view what fire was near, <br>A pretty babe all burning bright <br>   Did in the air appear; <br>Who, scorched with excessive heat, <br>   Such floods of tears did shed, <br>As though His floods should quench His flames, <br>   Which with His tears were bred: <br>'Alas!' quoth He, 'but newly born <br>   In fiery heats I fry, <br>Yet none approach to warm their hearts <br>   Or feel my fire but I! <br>'My faultless breast the furnace is; <br>   The fuel, wounding thorns; <br>Love is the fire, and sighs the smoke; <br>   The ashes, shames and scorns; <br>The fuel Justice layeth on, <br>   And Mercy blows the coals, <br>The metal in this furnace wrought <br>   Are men's defiled souls: <br>For which, as now on fire I am <br>   To work them to their good, <br>So will I melt into a bath, <br>   To wash them in my blood.' <br>With this He vanish'd out of sight <br>   And swiftly shrunk away, <br>And straight I called unto mind <br>   That it was Christmas Day.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Robert+Southwell">Robert Southwell</a></strong></div>