KING OF ALL KINHLGS

The King of all kings to this world being brought,
Small store of fine linen to wrap Him was sought,
But when she had swaddled her young son so sweet,
Within an ox-manger she laid Him to sleep.

Yet when the work is done, The work is but begun:
Partaker of Thy grace, I long to see Thy face;
The first I prove below, The last I die to know.
Thou wilt the root remove, And perfect me in love.