IV CHRISTMAS CAROLS

Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, goodwill toward men. St. Luke's Gospel

I SAW three ships come sailing in, On Christmas day, on Christmas day; I saw three ships come sailing in, On Christmas day in the morning. And what was in those ships all three, On Christmas day, on Christmas day? And what was in those ships all three, On Christmas day in the morning? The Virgin Mary and Christ were there, On Christmas day, on Christmas day; The Virgin Mary and Christ were there, On Christmas day in the morning. Pray, whither sailed those ships all three, On Christmas day, on Christmas day? Pray, whither sailed those ships all three, On Christmas day in the morning? O they sailed into Bethlehem, On Christmas day, on Christmas day; O they sailed into Bethlehem, On Christmas day in the morning. And all the bells on earth shall ring, On Christmas day, on Christmas day; And all the bells on earth shall ring, On Christmas day in the morning. And all the Angels in Heaven shall sing, On Christmas day, on Christmas day; And all the Angels in Heaven shall sing, On Christmas day in the morning. And all the souls on earth shall sing, On Christmas day, on Christmas day; And all the souls on earth shall sing, On Christmas day in the morning. Then let us all rejoice amain, On Christmas day, on Christmas day; Then let us all rejoice amain, On Christmas day in the morning. Old English Carol

LORDINGS, listen to our lay— We have come from far away To seek Christmas; In this mansion we are told He his yearly feast doth hold: 'Tis to day! May joy come from God above, To all those who Christmas love. Lordings, I now tell you true, Christmas bringeth unto you Only mirth: His house he fills with many a dish, Of bread and meat and also fish, To grace the day. May joy come from God above, To all those who Christmas love. Lordings, through our army's band They say—who spends with open hand Free and fast, And oft regales his many friends— God gives him double what he spends, To grace the day. May joy come from God above, To all those who Christmas love. Lordings, wicked men eschew, In them never shall you view Aught that's good; Cowards are the rabble rout, Kick and beat the grumblers out, To grace the day. May joys come from God above, To all those who Christmas love. Lords, by Christmas and the host Of this mansion hear my toast— Drink it well— Each must drain his cup of wine, And I the first will toss off mine: Thus I advise, Here then I bid you all Wassail, Cursed be he who will not say Drinkhail. Earliest Existing Carol; Thirteenth Century

AS Joseph was a-walking, He heard an angel sing, "This night shall be the birth-time Of Christ, the heavenly King. "He neither shall be born In housen nor in hall, Nor in the place of paradise, But in an ox's stall. "He neither shall be clothèd In purple nor in pall, But in the fair white linen That usen babies all. "He neither shall be rockèd In silver nor in gold, But in a wooden manger That resteth on the mould." As Joseph was a-walking, There did an angel sing, And Mary's child at midnight Was born to be our King. Then be ye glad, good people, This night of all the year, And light ye up your candles, For his star it shineth clear. Old English

WHEN Christ was born of Mary free, In Bethlehem, in that fair citie, Angels sang there with mirth and glee, In Excelsis Gloria! Herdsmen beheld these angels bright, To them appearing with great light, Who said, "God's Son is born this night," In Excelsis Gloria! This King is come to save mankind, As in Scripture truths we find, Therefore this song have we in mind, In Excelsis Gloria! Then, Lord, for thy great grace, Grant us the bliss to see thy face, Where we may sing to thy solace, In Excelsis Gloria! From the Harleian MSS.

GOD rest you merry, gentlemen, Let nothing you dismay, For Jesus Christ, our Saviour, Was born upon this day; To save us all from Satan's power, When we were gone astray. O tidings of comfort and joy, For Jesus Christ our Saviour was born on Christmas Day. In Bethlehem in Jewry This blessed babe was born, And laid within a manger Upon this blessed morn; The which His mother Mary Nothing did take in scorn. O tidings of comfort and joy,— From God, our Heavenly Father, A blessed Angel came, And, unto certain shepherds, Brought tidings of the same; How, that in Bethlehem was born The Son of God by name. O tidings of comfort and joy,— * * * * The Shepherds at those tidings, Rejoicèd much in mind, And left their flocks a-feeding In tempest, storm, and wind, And went to Bethlehem straightway, This blessed Babe to find. O tidings of comfort and joy,— But when to Bethlehem they came, Where as this Infant lay, They found him in a manger Where oxen feed on hay, His mother Mary kneeling Unto the Lord did pray. O tidings of comfort and joy,— Now to the Lord sing praises All you within this place, And with true love and brotherhood Each other now embrace, This holy tide of Christmas All others doth deface. O tidings of comfort and joy, For Jesus Christ our Saviour was born on Christmas Day. Old English

WE saw the light shine out a-far, On Christmas in the morning, And straight we knew Christ's Star it was, Bright beaming in the morning. Then did we fall on bended knee, On Christmas in the morning, And prais'd the Lord, who'd let us see His glory at its dawning. Oh! ever thought be of His Name, On Christmas in the morning, Who bore for us both grief and shame, Afflictions sharpest scorning. And may we die (when death shall come), On Christmas in the morning, And see in heav'n, our glorious home, The Star of Christmas morning. Old English

THE boar's head in hands I bring, With garlands gay and birds singing! I pray you all help me to sing, Qui estis in convivio! The boar's head I understand, Is chief service in all this land, Wheresoever it may be found, Servitur cum sinapio! The boar's head I dare well say, Anon after the twelfth day, He taketh his leave and goeth away! Exivit tunc de patria! From a Balliol MS. of about 1540

VILLAGERS all, this frosty tide, Let your doors swing open wide, Though wind may follow, and snow beside, Yet draw us in by your fire to bide; Joy shall be yours in the morning! Here we stand in the cold and the sleet, Blowing fingers and stamping feet, Come from far away you to greet— You by the fire and we in the street— Bidding you joy in the morning! For ere one half of the night was gone, Sudden a star has led us on, Raining bliss and benison— Bliss to-morrow and more anon, Joy for every morning. Goodman Joseph toiled through the snow— Saw a star o'er a stable low; Mary she might not further go— Welcome thatch, and litter below! Joy was hers in the morning! And then they heard the angels tell 'Who were the first to cry Nowell? Animals all, as it befell, In the stable where they did dwell! Joy shall be theirs in the morning!'

BLOW, blow, thou winter winde, Thou art not so unkinde, As mans ingratitude Thy tooth is not so keene, Because thou art not seene, Although thy breath be rude. Heigh ho, sing heigh ho, unto the greene holly, Most frendship is fayning; most Loving, meere folly: Then heigh ho, the holly, This Life is most jolly. Freize, freize, thou bitter skie That dost not bight so nigh As benefitts forgot: Though thou the waters warpe, Thy sting is not so sharpe, As freind remembred not. Heigh ho, sing heigh ho, unto the greene holly, Most frendship is fayning; most Loving, meere folly: Then heigh ho, the holly, This Life is most jolly. William Shakespeare

BEFORE the paling of the stars, Before the winter morn, Before the earliest cockcrow, Jesus Christ was born: Born in a stable, Cradled in a manger, In the world His hands had made Born a stranger. Priest and King lay fast asleep In Jerusalem, Young and old lay fast asleep In crowded Bethlehem: Saint and Angel, ox and ass, Kept a watch together Before the Christmas daybreak In the winter weather. Jesus on His Mother's breast In the stable cold, Spotless Lamb of God was He, Shepherd of the fold: Let us kneel with Mary Maid, With Joseph bent and hoary, With Saint and Angel, ox and ass, To hail the King of Glory. Christina G. Rossetti

THE minstrels played their Christmas tune To-night beneath my cottage eaves; While, smitten by a lofty moon, The encircling laurels, thick with leaves, Gave back a rich and dazzling sheen, That overpowered their natural green. Through hill and valley every breeze Had sunk to rest with folded wings: Keen was the air, but could not freeze, Nor check the music of the strings; So stout and hardy were the band That scraped the chords with strenuous hand. And who but listened?—till was paid Respect to every inmate's claim: The greeting given, the music played, In honour of each household name, Duly pronounced with lusty call, And "merry Christmas" wished to all! * * * * For pleasure hath not ceased to wait On these expected annual rounds; Whether the rich man's sumptuous gate Call forth the unelaborate sounds, Or they are offered at the door That guards the lowliest of the poor. How touching, when, at midnight, sweep Snow-muffled winds, and all is dark, To hear—and sink again to sleep! Or, at an earlier call, to mark, By blazing fire, the still suspense Of self-complacent innocence. The mutual nod,—the grave disguise Of hearts with gladness brimming o'er; And some unbidden tears that rise For names once heard, and heard no more; Tears brightened by the serenade For infant in the cradle laid. * * * * Hail, ancient Manners! sure defence, Where they survive, of wholesome laws; Remnants of love whose modest sense Thus into narrow room withdraws; Hail, Usages of pristine mould, And ye that guard them, Mountains old! * * * * Yes, they can make, who fail to find Short leisure even in busiest days, Moments, to cast a look behind, And profit by those kindly rays That through the clouds do sometimes steal, And all the far-off past reveal. William Wordsworth

I HEAR along our street Pass the minstrel throngs; Hark! they play so sweet, On their hautboys, Christmas songs! Let us by the fire Ever higher Sing them till the night expire! In December ring Every day the chimes; Loud the gleemen sing In the street their merry rhymes. Let us by the fire Ever higher Sing them till the night expire! Shepherds at the grange, Where the Babe was born, Sang, with many a change, Christmas carols until morn. Let us by the fire Ever higher Sing them till the night expire! These good people sang Songs devout and sweet; While the rafters rang, There they stood with freezing feet. Let us by the fire Ever higher Sing them till the night expire! * * * * Who by the fireside stands Stamps his feet and sings; But he who blows his hands Not so gay a carol brings. Let us by the fire Ever higher Sing them till the night expire! Henry Wadsworth Longfellow A Paraphrase from the Old French

FROM far away we come to you. The snow in the street, and the wind on the door, To tell of great tidings, strange and true. Minstrels and maids, stand forth on the floor. From far away we come to you, To tell of great tidings, strange and true. For as we wandered far and wide, The snow in the street, and the wind on the door, What hap do you deem there should us betide? Minstrels and maids, stand forth on the floor. Under a bent when the night was deep, The snow in the street, and the wind on the door, There lay three shepherds, tending their sheep. Minstrels and maids, stand forth on the floor. "O ye shepherds, what have ye seen, The snow in the street, and the wind on the door, To stay your sorrow and heal your teen?" Minstrels and maids, stand forth on the floor. "In an ox stall this night we saw, The snow in the street, and the wind on the door, A Babe and a maid without a flaw. Minstrels and maids, stand forth on the floor. "There was an old man there beside; The snow in the street, and the wind on the door, His hair was white, and his hood was wide. Minstrels and maids, stand forth on the floor. "And as we gazed this thing upon, The snow in the street, and the wind on the door, Those twain knelt down to the little one. Minstrels and maids, stand forth on the floor. "And a marvellous song we straight did hear, The snow in the street, and the wind on the door, That slew our sorrow and healed our care." Minstrels and maids, stand forth on the floor. News of a fair and a marvellous thing, The snow in the street, and the wind on the door, Nowell, Nowell, Nowell, we sing. Minstrels and maids, stand forth on the floor. Old English Carol

"WHAT means this glory round our feet," The Magi mused, "more bright than morn?" And voices chanted clear and sweet, "To-day the Prince of Peace is born!" "What means that star," the Shepherds said, "That brightens through the rocky glen?" And angels, answering overhead, Sang, "Peace on earth, good-will to men!" 'Tis eighteen hundred years and more Since those sweet oracles were dumb; We wait for Him, like them of yore; Alas, He seems so slow to come! But it was said, in words of gold, No time or sorrow e'er shall dim, That little children might be bold In perfect trust to come to Him. All round about our feet shall shine A light like that the wise men saw, If we our loving wills incline To that sweet Life which is the Law. So shall we learn to understand The simple faith of shepherds then, And, clasping kindly hand in hand, Sing, "Peace on earth, good-will to men!" But they who do their souls no wrong, But keep at eve the faith of morn, Shall daily hear the angel-song, "To-day the Prince of Peace is born!" James Russell Lowell

GOOD news from heaven the angels bring, Glad tidings to the earth they sing: To us this day a child is given, To crown us with the joy of heaven. This is the Christ, our God and Lord, Who in all need shall aid afford: He will Himself our Saviour be, From sin and sorrow set us free. To us that blessedness He brings, Which from the Father's bounty springs: That in the heavenly realm we may With Him enjoy eternal day. All hail, Thou noble Guest, this morn, Whose love did not the sinner scorn! In my distress Thou cam'st to me: What thanks shall I return to Thee? Were earth a thousand times as fair, Beset with gold and jewels rare, She yet were far too poor to be A narrow cradle, Lord, for Thee. Ah, dearest Jesus, Holy Child! Make Thee a bed, soft, undefiled, Within my heart, that it may be A quiet chamber kept for Thee. Praise God upon His heavenly throne, Who gave to us His only Son: For this His hosts, on joyful wing, A blest New Year of mercy sing. Martin Luther