A Christmas Caroll, sung to the King
in the Presence at White-Hall
| Chor. | What sweeter musick can we bring, Then a Caroll, for to sing The Birth of this our heavenly King? Awake the Voice! Awake the String! Heart, Eare, and Eye, and every thing Awake! the while the active Finger Runs division with the Singer. |
| 1 | From the Flourish they came to the Song. Dark and dull night, flie hence away, And give the honour to this Day, That sees December turn’d to May. |
| 2 | . If we may ask the reason, say; The why, and wherefore all things here Seem like the Spring-time of the yeere? |
| 3 | . Why do’s the chilling Winters morne Smile, like a field beset with corne? Or smell, like to a Meade new-shorne, Thus, on the sudden? |
| 4 | Come and see The cause, why things thus fragrant be : ‘Tis He is borne, whose quickning Birth Gives life and luster, publike mirth, To Heaven, and the under-Earth. |
| Chor. | We see Him come, and know him ours, Who, with His Sun-shine, and His showers, Turnes all the patient ground to flowers. |
| 1 | . The Darling of the world is come, And fit it is, we finde a roome To welcome Him. |
| 2. | The nobler part Of all the house here, is the heart, |
| Chor. | Which we will give Him ; and bequeath This Hollie, and this Ivie Wreath, To do Him honour, who’s our King, And Lord of all this Revelling. |
Robert Herrick
On the Nativity of Christ
Rorate coeli desuper!
Hevins, distil your balmy schouris!
For now is risen the bricht day-ster,
Fro the rose Mary, flour of flouris:
The cleir Sone, quhom no cloud devouris,
Surmounting Phebus in the Est,
Is cumin of his hevinly touris:
Et nobis Puer natus est.
Archangellis, angellis, and dompnationis,
Tronis, potestatis, and marteiris seir,
And all ye hevinly operationis,
Ster, planeit, firmament, and spheir,
Fire, erd, air, and water cleir,
To Him gife loving, most and lest,
That come in to so meik maneir;
Et nobis Puer natus est.
Synnaris be glad, and penance do,
And thank your Maker hairtfully;
For he that ye micht nocht come to
To you is cumin full humbly
Your soulis with his blood to buy
And loose you of the fiendis arrest–
And only of his own mercy;
Pro nobis Puer natus est.
All clergy do to him inclyne,
And bow unto that bairn benyng,
And do your observance divyne
To him that is of kingis King:
Encense his altar, read and sing
In holy kirk, with mind degest,
Him honouring attour all thing
Qui nobis Puer natus est.
Celestial foulis in the air,
Sing with your nottis upon hicht,
In firthis and in forrestis fair
Be myrthful now at all your mycht;
For passit is your dully nicht,
Aurora has the cloudis perst,
The Sone is risen with glaidsum licht,
Et nobis Puer natus est.
Now spring up flouris fra the rute,
Revert you upward naturaly,
In honour of the blissit frute
That raiss up fro the rose Mary;
Lay out your levis lustily,
Fro deid take life now at the lest
In wirschip of that Prince worthy
Qui nobis Puer natus est.
Sing, hevin imperial, most of hicht!
Regions of air mak armony!
All fish in flud and fowl of flicht
Be mirthful and mak melody!
All Gloria in excelsis cry!
Heaven, erd, se, man, bird, and best,–
He that is crownit abone the sky
Pro nobis Puer natus est!
William Dunbar
A Christmas Carol
The Christ-child lay on Mary’s lap,
His hair was like a light.
(O weary, weary were the world,
But here is all aright.)
The Christ-child lay on Mary’s breast
His hair was like a star.
(O stern and cunning are the kings,
But here the true hearts are.)
The Christ-child lay on Mary’s heart,
His hair was like a fire.
(O weary, weary is the world,
But here the world’s desire.)
The Christ-child stood on Mary’s knee,
His hair was like a crown,
And all the flowers looked up at Him,
And all the stars looked down
G. K. Chesterton
