Foil Thy Foes with Joy
his Little Babe, a victorious poem for Christmas morning, by Robert Southwell.
This little Babe so few days old,
Is come to rifle Satan’s fold;
All hell doth at his presence quake,
Though he himself for cold do shake;
For in this weak, unarmed wise,
The gates of hell he will surprise.
With tears he fights and wins the field,
His naked breast [...]




