John Byrom

His tact, too, temper'd him from grave to gay,
And taught him when to be reserved or free.

His tact, too, temper'd him from grave to gay,
And taught him when to be reserved or free.

Give me the soft sigh, whilst the soul-telling eye
Is dimm'd for a time with a tear.

Give me the soft sigh, whilst the soul-telling eye
Is dimm'd for a time with a tear.

A sword laid by,
Which eats into itself, and rusts ingloriously.

A sword laid by,
Which eats into itself, and rusts ingloriously.

As fierce as hell, or fiercer still,
A woman piqued who has her will.

As fierce as hell, or fiercer still,
A woman piqued who has her will.

Christians awake, salute the happy morn
Whereon the Saviour of the world was born.

Christians awake, salute the happy morn
Whereon the Saviour of the world was born.