Whence Comes This Rush of Wings? Whence comes this rush of wings afar, Following straight the Noël star? Birds from the woods in wondrous flight, Bethlehem seek this Holy Night. "Tell us, ye birds, why come ye here, Into this stable, poor and drear?" "Hast'ning we seek the new-loom King, And all our sweetest music bring." Hark! how the greenfinch bears his part, Philomel, too, with tender heart, Chants from her leafy dark retreat, Re, mi, fa, sol, in accents sweet. Angels and shepherds, birds of the sky, Come where the Son of God cloth lie; Christ on earth with man cloth dwell, Join in the shout, "Noël, Noël!"
Your enjoyment of the world is never right, till every morning you awake in Heaven; see yourself in your Father's Palace; and look upon the skies, the earth, and the air as Celestial Joys; having such a reverend esteem of all, as if you were among the Angels.