Long in stables we have lain

Lodged in serried stalls of pain

Brooding on the dark decrees

Proclaimed in sorrow's mysteries;

Bearing that within our hear

None can publish, none impart

Is it the crying of a child

Born into a desert wild?

Nowell, nowell, nowell, men,

Christ is come on Earth again.

Born in solemn burgeoning

Behold the Babe that shall be King

The splendour of His infant eyes

Subdues the wisdom of the wise.

The touches of His tiny hands

Imprint the power that understands

The perfect feet, that yet must bleed,

Pace the dream that paves the deed

Nowell, nowell, nowell, men,

Christ is come on Earth again.

G.D.J.

BC Archives MS-2570 Box 1 File 6 /MIST, Henry Masterman / Ruhleben magazine, Prisoners' Pie, 1916.