[1] Christmas Day All in All Your Homage Render, Gustav Holst (1874-1934) Weak and Mighty,Young and Old

In Terra Pax - A Christmas Anthology 8.572102

[1] Christmas Day All in all your homage render, Gustav Holst (1874-1934) Weak and mighty,young and old. Words: traditional High above a star is shining, Good Christian men, rejoice And the Wisemen haste from far: With heart, and soul, and voice; Come, glad hearts, and spirits pining: Give ye heed to what we say: For you all has risen the star. News! News! Let us bring our poor oblations, Jesus Christ is born today: Thanks and love and faith and praise: Ox and ass before him bow, Come, ye people, come, ye nations, And he is in the manger now. All in all draw nigh to gaze. Christ is born today! Now to the Lord sing praises, God rest you merry, gentlemen, All you within this place, Let nothing you dismay, And with true love and brotherhood Remember Christ our Saviour Each other now embrace; Was born on Christmas day, This holy tide of Christmas To save us all from woe and sin, All others doth deface. When we were gone astray. O tidings of comfort and joy. O tidings of comfort and joy. Good Christian men, rejoice In Bethlehem, in Jewry, With heart, and soul, and voice; This blessed Babe was born, Now ye need not fear the grave: And laid within a manger, Peace! Peace! Upon that holy morn; Jesus Christ was born to save! The which his mother, Mary, Calls you one, and calls you all, Did nothing take in scorn. To gain his everlasting hall: O tidings of comfort and joy. Christ was born to save!

Good Christian men, rejoice [2] There is no rose With heart, and soul, and voice; John Joubert (b. 1927) Now ye hear of endless bliss: Words: traditional Joy! Joy! Jesus Christ was born for this! There is no rose of such virtue He hath oped the heav’nly door, As is the rose that bare Jesu: And man is blessed evermore. Alleluia. Christ was born for this! For in this rose contained was Come, ye lofty, come, ye lowly, Heav’n and earth in little space: Let your songs of gladness ring; Res miranda. In a stable lies the Holy, In a manger rests the King; By that rose we may well see See, in Mary’s arms reposing, There be one God in Persons Three: Christ by highest heav’n adored; Pares forma. Come, your circle round him closing, Pious hearts that love the Lord. Then leave we all this worldly mirth And follow we this joyous birth: The first Nowell the angels did say, Transeamus. Was to certain poor shepherds in fields as they lay; In fields where they lay keeping their sheep, [3] Sir Christèmas On a cold winter’s night that was so deep. William Mathias (1934-92) Nowell, Nowell, Nowell, Words: traditional Born is the King of Israel. Nowell, nowell! Come, ye poor, no pomp of station Who is there that singeth so? Robes the child your hearts adore: I am here, Sir Christèmas. He, the Lord of all salvation, Welcome, my lord Sir Christèmas! Shares your want, is weak and poor: Welcome to all, both more and less, Oxen, round about behold them; Come near, come near. Rafters naked, cold and bare, See the shepherds, God has told them Dieu vous garde, beaux sieurs, That the Prince of Life lies there. Tidings I you bring: A maid has borne a child full young, Come, ye children, blithe and merry, Which causeth you to sing: This one child your model make; Nowell, nowell. Christmas holly, leaf and berry, All be prized for his dear sake; Christ is now born of a pure maid; Come, ye gentle hearts, and tender, In an ox-stall he is laid, Come, ye spirits, keen and bold; Wherefore sing we at a brayde:

In Terra Pax - A Christmas Anthology 8.572102

Nowell, nowell. When the shepherds watching by their folds ere the dawn Buvez bien, par toute la compagnie. Heard music in the fields Make good cheer and be right merry, and marvelling could not tell And sing with us now joyfully: Whether it were angels Nowell, nowell! or the bright stars singing.

[4] Here is the little door And there were in the same country shepherds abiding Herbert Howells (1892-1983) in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. And Words by Frances Chesterton (1875-1938) lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them, and they were sore Here is the little door, lift up the latch, oh lift! afraid. And the angel said unto them: We need not wander more but enter with our gift; Our gift of finest gold, Fear not; for behold, I bring you good tidings of great Gold that was never bought or sold; joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this Myrrh to be strewn about his bed; day, in the city of David, a Saviour, which is Christ the Incense in clouds about his head; Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you; ye shall find the All for the child that stirs not in his sleep, babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger. But holy slumber hold with ass and sheep. And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of Bend low about his bed, for each he has a gift; the heavenly host praising God, and saying, Glory to See how his eyes awake, lift up your hands, O lift! God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will For gold, he gives a keen-edged sword toward men. (Defend with it thy little Lord!) For incense, smoke of battle red But to me heard afar Myrrh for the honoured happy dead; it was starry music Gifts for his children, terrible and sweet, Angels’ song, comforting Touched by such tiny hands and as the comfort of Christ Oh such tiny feet. When he spake tenderly to his sorrowful flock: [5] A spotless Rose The old words came to me Herbert Howells by the riches of time Words: traditional Mellow’d and transfigured as I stood on the hill A spotless Rose is blowing, Heark’ning in the aspect Sprung from a tender root, of th’eternal silence. Of ancient seers’ foreshowing, Of Jesse promis’d fruit; Three carols Its fairest bud unfolds to light Peter Warlock (1894-1930) Amid the cold, cold winter, Words: traditional And in the dark midnight. [7] Tyrley, tyrlow The Rose which I am singing, About the field they pipèd right, Whereof Isaiah said, So merrily the shepherds began to blow. Is from its sweet root springing A-down from heaven that is so high. In Mary, purest Maid; Tyrley, tyrlow, tyrley, tyrlow, tyrley, tyrlow. For through our God’s great love and might, The Blessed Babe she bare us Of angels there came a company In a cold, cold winter’s night. With merry songs and melody, The shepherds anon gan them aspy. [6] In terra pax – Christmas scene Tyrley, tyrlow … Gerald Finzi (1901-56) Words by Robert Bridges (1844-1930) The shepherds hied them to Bedlem and from the Gospel of St Luke To see that blessed sun his beam. And there they found that glorious leme. A frosty Christmas Eve Tyrley, tyrlow … when the stars were shining Fared I forth alone Now pray we to that meke child, where westward falls the hill, And to his mother that is so mild, And from many a village The which was never defiled. in the water’d valley Tyrley, tyrlow … Distant music reach’d me peals of bells a-ringing: That we may come unto his bliss The constellated sounds Where joy shall never miss. ran sprinkling on earth’s floor Then may we sing in Paradise. As the dark vault above Tyrley, tyrlow … with stars was spangled o’er. Then sped my thoughts to keep I pray you all that be here that first Christmas of all For to sing and make good cheer

In Terra Pax - A Christmas Anthology 8.572102

In the worship of God this year. [11] What sweeter music Tyrley, tyrlow … John Rutter (b. 1945) Words by Robert Herrick (1591-1674) [8] Balulalow O my dear hert, young Jesu sweet, What sweeter music can we bring Prepare thy credil in my spreit, Than a carol, for to sing And I sall rock thee in my hert, The birth of this our heav’nly King? And never mair from thee depart. Awake the voice! Awake the string! But I sall praise thee evermore Dark and dull night, fly hence away, With sangis sweet unto thy glor. And give the honour to this day The knees of my heart sall I bow, That sees December turn’d to May. And sing that richt Balulalow. Why does the chilling winter’s morn [9] As I sat under a sycamore tree Smile, like a field beset with corn? As I sat under a sycamore tree, Or smell like a meadow nearly shorn I looked me out upon the sea Thus on the sudden? Come and see A Christmas day in the morning. The cause, why things thus fragrant be: ’Tis he is born, whose quick’ning birth I saw three ships a-sailing there, Gives life and lustre, public mirth, The Virgin Mary and Christ they bare To heaven and the underearth. A Christmas day in the morning. We see him come, and know him ours, Who, with his sunshine and his show’rs, He did whistle and she did sing, Turns all the patient ground to flow’rs. And all the bells on earth did ring, The darling of the world is come, A Christmas day in the morning. And fit it is, we find a room To welcome him, to welcome him. And now we hope to taste your cheer, And wish you all a happy new year, The nobler part of all the house here, is the heart, A Christmas day in the morning. Which we will give him; and bequeath This holly, and this ivy wreath, [10] A hymn of the Nativity To do him honour; who’s our King, Kenneth Leighton (1929-88) And Lord of all this revelling. Words by Richard Crashaw (c. 1613-1649) [12] Tomorrow shall be my dancing day We saw thee in thy balmy nest, John Gardner (b. 1917) Young dawn of our eternal day; Words: traditional We saw thine eyes break from the East, And chase the trembling shades away: Tomorrow shall be my dancing day We saw thee, and we blest the sight, I would my true love did so chance We saw thee by thine own sweet light. To see the legend of my play, To call my true love to my dance: I saw th’obsequious seraphim Sing O my love, my love, my love; Their rosy fleece of fire bestow, This have I done for my true love. For well they now can spare their wings, Since Heaven itself lies here below. Then was I born of a virgin pure, Well done, said I; but are you sure Of her I took fleshly substance; Your down, so warm, will pass for pure? Thus was I knit to man’s nature, To call my true love to my dance: No, no, your King’s not yet to seek Sing O my love … Where to repose his royal head; See, see how soon his new-bloom’d cheek In a manger laid and wrapped I was, ‘Twixt mother’s breasts is gone to bed! So very poor this was my chance, Sweet choice, said we; no way but so, Betwixt an ox and a silly poor ass, Not to lie cold, yet sleep in snow! To call my true love to my dance: Sing O my love … Welcome to our wond’ring sight Then afterwards baptized I was; Eternity shut in a span! The Holy Ghost on me did glance, Summer in winter, day in night! My Father’s voice heard from above, Heaven in earth! and God in man! To call my true love to my dance. Great little one, whose glorious birth Sing O my love … Lifts earth to Heav’n, stoops Heaven to earth. [13] A babe is born To thee, meek Majesty, soft King William Mathias Of simple graces and sweet loves! Words: traditional Each of us his lamb will bring, Each his pair of silver doves! A babe is born all of a may, At last, in fire of thy fair eyes, To bring salvation unto us. Ourselves become our own best sacrifice! To him we sing both night and day. Veni Creator Spiritus.

In Terra Pax - A Christmas Anthology 8.572102

At Bethlehem, that blessed place, Here’s a health to the ox and to his broad horn. The child of bliss now born he was; Pray God send our Master a good crop of corn. And him to serve God give us grace, A good crop of corn as ever I did see; O lux beata Trinitas. In the Wassail bowl we’ll drink unto thee.

There came three kings out of the East, Here’s a health to the cow and to her long tail. To worship the King that is so free, Pray God send our Master a good cask of Ale; With gold and myrrh and frankincense, A good cask of Ale as ever I did see A solis ortus cardine. In the Wassail bowl we’ll drink unto thee.

The angels came down with one cry, Come butler, come fill us a bowl of the best, A fair song that night sung they Then I pray your soul in heaven may rest, In worship of that child: But if you do bring us a bowl of the small, Gloria tibi Domine. May the devil take butler, bowl and all!

A babe is born all of a may, Then here’s to the maid in the lily white smock, To bring salvation unto us. Who tripped to the door and slipped back the lock, To him we sing both night and day. Who tripped to the door and pulled back the pin, Veni Creator Spiritus. Noel! For to let these jolly Wassailers walk in.

Folk songs of the four seasons – Winter [16] In Bethlehem city Ralph Vaughan Williams (1872-1958) In Bethlehem city in Judea it was Words: traditional That Joseph and Mary together did pass, All for to be taxed when thither they came, [14] Children’s Christmas song For Caesar Augustus commanded the same. We’ve been awhile a-wandering Then let us be merry, cast sorrow aside, Amongst the leaves so green, Our Saviour Christ Jesus was born on this tide. But now we come a-wassailing So plainly to be seen. But Mary’s full time being come as we find, For it’s Christmas time, when we travel far and near; She brought forth her first born to save all mankind; May God bless you and send you a happy new year. The inn being full, for the heavenly guest No place could she find to lay him to rest. We are not daily beggars Then let us be merry … That beg from door to door; We are your neighbours’ children, Then they were constrained in a stable to lie, Whom you have seen before. Where horses and asses they used for to tie. For it’s Christmas time … Their lodging so simple they took in no scorn, But against the next morning our Saviour was born. Good Master and good Mistress, Then let us be merry … While you’re sitting by the fire, Pray think of us poor children Then God sent an angel from Heaven so high, That wander in the mire. To certain poor shepherds in fields where they lie, For it’s Christmas time … And bade them no longer in sorrow to stay Because that our Saviour was born on this day. We’ve got a little purse Then let us be merry … Made of leathern ratchin skin We want a little of your money Then presently after the shepherds did spy, To line it well within. Vast numbers of angels did stand in the sky; For it’s Christmas time … So merry were talking, so sweetly did sing, All glory and praise to our heavenly King. Bring us out a table, Then let us be merry … And spread it with a cloth, Bring us out a mouldy cheese [17] God bless the Master And some of your Christmas loaf. God bless the Master of this house For it’s Christmas time … With happiness beside; Where e’er his body rides or walks, [15] Wassail song Lord Jesus be his guide. Wassail, Wassail all over the town, Our bread it is white and our ale it is brown, God bless the mistress of this house Our bowl it is made of the white maple tree; With gold chain round her breast, In the Wassail bowl we’ll drink unto thee. Where e’er her body sleeps or wakes, Lord, send her soul to rest. Here’s a health to the horse and to his right eye. Pray God send our Master a good Christmas pie, God bless your house, your children too, A good Christmas pie as ever I did see, Your cattle and your store, In the Wassail bowl we’ll drink unto thee. The Lord increase you day by day And send you more and more.