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NAHUM TATE.
_Christmas Carol_
As Joseph was a-walking, He heard an angel sing, "This night shall be the birthnight Of Christ our heavenly King.
"His birth-bed shall be neither In housen nor in hall, Nor in the place of paradise, But in the oxen's stall.
"He neither shall be rocked In silver nor in gold, But in the wooden manger That lieth in the mould.
"He neither shall be washen With white wine nor with red, But with the fair spring water That on you shall be shed.
"He neither shall be clothed In purple nor in pall, But in the fair, white linen That usen babies all."
As Joseph was a-walking, Thus did the angel sing, And Mary's son at midnight Was born to be our King.
Then be you glad, good people, At this time of the year; And light you up your candles, For His star it s.h.i.+neth clear.
OLD ENGLISH.
_Old Christmas_
Now he who knows old Christmas, He knows a carle of worth; For he is as good a fellow As any upon earth.
He comes warm cloaked and coated, And b.u.t.toned up to the chin, And soon as he comes a-nigh the door We open and let him in.
We know that he will not fail us, So we sweep the hearth up clean; We set him in the old arm-chair, And a cus.h.i.+on whereon to lean.
And with sprigs of holly and ivy We make the house look gay, Just out of an old regard to him, For it was his ancient way.
He must be a rich old fellow: What money he gives away!
There is not a lord in England Could equal him any day.
Good luck unto old Christmas, And long life, let us sing, For he doth more good unto the poor Than many a crowned king!
MARY HOWITT.
_G.o.d Rest Ye, Merry Gentlemen_
G.o.d rest ye, merry gentlemen; let nothing you dismay, For Jesus Christ, our Saviour, was born on Christmas-day.
The dawn rose red o'er Bethlehem, the stars shone through the gray, When Jesus Christ, our Saviour, was born on Christmas-day.
G.o.d rest ye, little children; let nothing you affright, For Jesus Christ, your Saviour, was born this happy night; Along the hills of Galilee the white flocks sleeping lay, When Christ, the child of Nazareth, was born on Christmas-day.
G.o.d rest ye, all good Christians; upon this blessed morn The Lord of all good Christians was of a woman born: Now all your sorrows He doth heal, your sins He takes away; For Jesus Christ, our Saviour, was born on Christmas-day.
DINAH MARIA MULOCK.
_Minstrels and Maids_
Outlanders, whence come ye last?
_The snow in the street and the wind on the door._ Through what green seas and great have ye past?
_Minstrels and maids, stand forth on the floor._
From far away, O masters mine, _The snow in the street and the wind on the door._ We come to bear you goodly wine, _Minstrels and maids, stand forth on the floor._
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._
News, news of the Trinity, _The snow in the street and the wind on the door._ And Mary and Joseph from over the sea!
_Minstrels and maids, stand forth on the floor._
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 slay 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 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._
WILLIAM MORRIS.
_An Ode on the Birth of Our Saviour_
In numbers, and but these few, I sing thy birth, O Jesu!
Thou pretty baby, born here With sup'rabundant scorn here: Who for thy princely port here, Hadst for thy place Of birth, a base Out-stable for thy court here.
Instead of neat enclosures Of interwoven osiers, Instead of fragrant posies Of daffodils and roses, Thy cradle, kingly stranger, As gospel tells, Was nothing else But here a homely manger.
