Poem: “The Slaughter of the Innocents” by Giles Fletcher

And yet but newly he was infanted,
And yet already he was sought to die;
Yet scarcely born, already banished,
Not able yet to go, and forced to fly:
But scarcely fled away, when, by and by,
The tyrant’s sword with blood is all defiled.
And Rachel, for her sons, with fury wild
Cries, “O thou cruel king!” and “O my sweetest child!”