SEVERAL of the circumstances referred to in the carols, may also
be found in the early mysteries, and are probably handed down from
them, or from some legend common to both. Some, indeed, may have been
derived from the Apocryphal New Testament, as from the birth of Mary,
the Protevangelion, and the infancy. The tradition, for instance, of
Joseph being an old man, is derived from both sources; in the Coventry
Mysteries he complains of his age in many passages.
“....I am so agyd and so olde,
Yt both my leggys gyn to folde,
I am ny almost lame.”
In the cherry-tree carol, and in the Dutch date-tree carol, he is
described as an old man, and weary. This cherry-tree carol, of which
there are two or three varieties, one of which is printed in the
following collection, appears to have been of the fifteenth century,
if not older; as, in Hoffman’s specimens of Dutch carols of that age,
there is one very similar, merely substituting a date for a cherry
tree, the date perhaps having been considered more oriental. The
following is the translation given in ‘Notes and Queries.’
“Joseph he led the ass,
The bridle held he;
What found they by the way,
But a date tree?
Oh! ass’s foal, thou must stand still,
To gather dates it is our will,
So weary are we.
The date tree bowed to the earth,
To Mary’s knee;
Mary would fill her lap
From the date tree.
Joseph was an old man,
And wearied was he.
Mary, let the date tree bide,
We have yet forty miles to ride,
And late it will be.
Let us pray this Blessed Child
Grant us mercie.”
The tradition is also introduced in the early mysteries, and the
following is the manner in which it is treated in the fifteenth of the
Coventry plays, that may serve as a specimen of these performances,
somewhat quaint and rude to our modern ears; and it would puzzle a
practised Shakesperian reader, even a well-skilled relation of my own
in this art, to give one of these ancient dramas with any effect.—Mary
says,
A my swete husbond, wolde ye telle to me
What tre is yon standynge upon yon hylle?
_Joseph._ Forsoothe, Mary, it is clepyd a chery tre,
In tyme of yer ye myght fede yow yon yō fylle.
_Maria._ Turne ageyn, husbond, and beholde yon tre,
How yt it blomyght now so swetly.
_Joseph._ Cum on, Mary, yt we worn at yon cyte,
Or ellys we may be blamyd I telle yow lythty.
_Maria._ Now, my spouse, I pray yow to be hold
How ye cheryes growyn upon yon tre,
For to have yr of ryght fayn I wold,
And it plesyd yow to labor so mech for me.
_Joseph._ Yor desyr to fulfylle I shall assay sekyrly,
Ow to plucke yow of these cherries it is a werk wylde,
For ye tre is so hyg’ it wol not be lyghtly,
Yr for lete hy pluk yow cheryes begatt yow wt childe.
_Maria._ Now, good Lord, I pray the, graunt me yis boun,
To have of yese cheries, and it be yor wylle,
Now I thank it God, yis tre bowyth to me down,
I may now gadery anowe and etyn my fylle.
_Joseph._ Ow, I know weyl I have offendyd my God ī trinyte,
Spekyn to my spowse these unkynde wordys.
For now I beleve wel it may non other be,
But yt my spowse beryght ye kyngys son of blys,
He help us now at oure nede!“
In the French mystery, or Pastoral, as it is called, of the Naissance,
on the first appearance of Joseph and Mary, in their humble condition,
the host resists all the entreaties of his wife to let them in—she,
with the compassion of a woman (found, as Mungo Park relates, even
in the uncivilised interior of Africa) being moved with the apparent
helpless condition of the Virgin—the surly host, however, says,
“Fermez, fermez la porte,
Nous ne logerons point des gens de cette sorte.”
Thus repulsed, they then take shelter in the stable.
The legend of the roasted cock coming to life, in proof of our
Saviour’s birth, which is mentioned in the carol of the ‘Carnal and the
Crane,’ may also be found in an old carol for St. Stephen’s Day, of the
time of Henry the Sixth; but in this, instead of crowing three times,
as in the more modern carol, the bird, which in the older version
is called a capon, crows, “Christus natus est.” The legend of the
husbandman, in the same carol, whose seed sprang up before Herod and
his train arrived, has been already referred to, as forming part of one
of the old mysteries.
The curious fancy, in the carol of ‘I saw three ships,’ is old; one of
the ancient Dutch carols given by Hoffman, beginning
“There comes a vessel laden,
And on its highest gunwale,
Mary holds the rudder,
The angel steers it on.”
And in an after verse,
“In one unbroken course
There comes that ship to land,
It brings to us rich gifts,
Forgiveness is sent to us.”
Ritson also mentions the following lines, as sung at Christmas time,
about the middle of the sixteenth century.
“There comes a ship far sailing then,
Saint Michel was the stieres-man;
Saint John sate in the horn.
Our Lord harped, our Lady sang,
And all the bells of heaven they rang,
On Christ’s Sonday at morn.”
A modern broadside carol, called ‘The Sunny Bank,’ gives these lines
thus.
“O he did whistle, and she did sing,
And all the bells on earth did ring,
For joy that our Saviour he was born
On Christmas Day in the morning.”
Hone, in his Mysteries, mentions a carol printed by J. Bradford,
Little Britain, 1701, having a large woodcut, representing the stable
at Bethlehem; our Saviour in the crib, watched by the Virgin and
Joseph; shepherds kneeling, and angels attending; a man playing on the
bagpipes; a woman with a basket of fruit on her head; a sheep bleating,
and an ox lowing on the ground; a raven croaking, and a crow cawing
on the hay-rack; a cock crowing above them; and angels singing in the
sky. The animals and birds have labels, which are thus explained. The
cock croweth, _Christus natus est_, Christ is born. The raven asked,
_Quando?_ When? The cow replied, _Hac nocte_, this night. The ox cryeth
out, _Ubi? Ubi?_ Where? where? The sheep bleated out, _Bethlehem_,
Bethlehem. Voice from heaven sounded, _Gloria in Excelsis_, Glory be on
high. There is an old French mystery of the Nativity, referred to in
“Noei Borguignon de Gui Barôzai,” where four animals are introduced,
much in the same manner; the ox and ass of the manger, the cock of
the passion, and the lamb of St. John the Baptist. The cock exclaims,
with a piercing voice, _Christus natus est_. The ox, with a lengthened
bellowing, demands _Ubi?_ pronouncing it oubi. The lamb answers
_Bethleem_, lengthening the first syllable; and the ass concludes, with
_hinhamus, hinhamus_, signifying _eamus_.
Several carols refer to the crucifixion and resurrection, and, as
formerly observed, are more adapted to Easter than Christmas; but there
are also regular Christmas carols, which carry our Saviour’s history
down to the time of his death. It may be readily supposed, that the
cross itself has a legend attached to it, and its origin indeed dates
from the death of Adam. When he was at the point of death, he directed
his son Seth to apply to the angel of Paradise, for some of the oil of
mercy, and obtained from him three kernels from an apple of the tree
of life, which he was instructed to plant after Adam’s death; one in
his mouth, and one in each nostril. From the tree which sprang from
these kernels, the rod of Moses, with which he worked his miracles,
was taken, and also the wood with which he cured the bitter water,
and the pole whereon the brazen serpent was raised. At the time of
building Solomon’s temple, the tree was cut down for use, but it was
in every case found too long or too short, or with some other defect,
and was thrown aside as unserviceable for the temple, and applied
as a foot-bridge; but the Queen of Sheba, during her visit to King
Solomon, refused to pass over it, stating it would prove the ruin of
the Jews. It was then used as a seat, but the Sybil would not sit on
it, predicting that the Redeemer would die triumphantly on it, for the
salvation of mankind. It afterwards remained in the pool of Bethesda
until the time of the crucifixion, when some difficulty arising in
procuring proper wood for the cross, some of the Jews thought of this
tree, which they found perfectly adapted for the purpose.
One of the versions of the legend states, that a smith being applied
to, to make three nails to fasten our Saviour to the cross, he refused
to do so, and feigned sickness, upon which his wife came forward and
made them. After the crucifixion, the cross, with its nails, became
buried in rubbish, and was lost sight of, until Helena, the mother of
Constantine the Great, went to Jerusalem, in 326, and after diligent
search found it, together with the crosses of the two thieves, Titus
(the penitent) and Dumachus, the former of whom had prevented the
latter from robbing Joseph and Mary, on their flight to Egypt, and the
child Jesus had then foretold that they would be crucified with Him,
thirty years afterwards, and that Titus should go to Paradise.
Three crosses having been found by Helena, and the inscription having
been detached, a difficulty arose how to identify the true one;
but this was removed by placing them by the side of a lady who was
dangerously ill, and she was immediately restored to health on the
application of the real cross. She gave the nails and part of the
cross to her son, and founded a church at Rome, where she placed the
remainder, with the inscription. Constantine, it is said, placed one of
the nails on the bridle of his war-horse, and one on his sword, and the
third was cast into a dangerous gulf of the sea, to appease a storm.
According to Fabian, Athelstan had in his possession one of the nails,
with part of the cross; and another part with a nail; and the crown of
thorns, were said to have been at Nôtre Dame, in Paris; and portions
of it claimed to be preserved in other churches.
There is a curious story on the subject, related in Harl. MS. 2252
(temp. Hen. 8), entitled, “A grete myracle of a knyghte, callyde Syr
Roger Wallysborow.” Being in the Holy Land, he wished to bring off
privily a piece of the cross, and praying to that effect, his thigh
opened miraculously, and received it. He then returned to Cornwall, his
native country, having in the course of his voyage, by virtue of the
fragment of the cross, appeased the elements, and prevented shipwreck.
On his arrival, his thigh opened to liberate the precious relic, of
which he gave part to the parish church where this happened, hence
called Cross parish, and the remainder to St. Buryan, where his lands
were.
The slaughter of the Innocents is referred to in several carols, and
there are some written expressly for Innocents’ Day; the day of the
week on which it falls being considered unlucky throughout the year by
many. Brand mentions a custom in Roman Catholic countries of running
through all the rooms of a house, making a pretended search in and
under the beds, in commemoration of Herod’s search for the children;
and there is a tradition that his own son was killed among them, which
made Augustus say, that it was better to be Herod’s hog than his son,
referring to his being a Jew, and therefore forbidden to kill swine,
playing also on the Greek words, [Greek: un] (un) a hog, and [Greek:
uion] (uion) a son. Some carols, or Christmas songs, refer to the
bringing in of the boar’s head; and in the old carol of St. Stephen’s
Day, before mentioned, St. Stephen, who is stated to be in king Herod’s
service, is, somewhat inconsistently with such service, introduced as
bringing in a boar’s head.
“Stevyn out of kechon cam w^{t} boris hed on honde,
He saw a sterr was fayr and bryzt ou^{r} bedlem stondæ,
He kyst a down the bors hed and went into the halle,
I forsak the kyng herowds and thi werks alle,
I forsak the kyng herowds and thi werks alle,
Ther is a chyd in bedlem born is bet^{r} than we alle.”
It is difficult to say whether the boar’s head was first introduced at
Christmas as a kind of anti-judaical test, because the Jews would not
eat it—something like pork was said to be eaten at Easter, together
with tansy pudding (a corruption from athanasia);—but as the boar’s
head seems to have been a favourite at all great feasts, at least, from
the time of that greatest of boars, Scrymer, it is probable that it
thus became a “chief service” at the greatest of feasts.
There are several ancient MS. carols in the British Museum,
particularly in Sloane MS. 2593 and Harl. MS. 5396, Additional MSS.
5465 and 5665 and Cotton MS. Vespasian A, xxv, of which several, and
probably the best, have been printed in Christmas carols, edited by
Mr. Wright, for the Percy Society, in 1841, and in the collection of
Christmas carols, by the author of the present work, in 1833. There
is also a curious collection of songs and carols, supposed to have
been a minstrel’s book of the fifteenth century, edited, in 1847,
for the Percy Society, by Mr. Wright, whose ability in all matters
connected with the history, customs, and antiquities of our country,
are so well known; old carols may also be found in the libraries of the
Universities. The oldest printed collection of carols was by Wynkyn
de Worde, in 1521, which contains one on bringing in the boar’s head.
Another rare collection was printed by Richard Kele, in the Poultry,
between 1546 and 1552.
In 1562, John Tysdale had a license for printing ‘Certayne goodly
carowles to be songe to the glory of God;’ and, in the same year,
Rowlande Hall had one for ‘Crestenmas carroles auctorysshed by my lorde
of London.’ In 1563, John Day printed some carols of Thomas Becon; and,
in 1569, Richard Jonnes and James Robertes, each printed a collection;
the last being by Christopher Payne. About the same time Tusser wrote
a carol, as well as other poetry, illustrative of Christmas-tide. In
1579, J. Alder had a license for ‘a Godly Hymn or Carol for Christmas,’
and in 1580, for ‘Godly Carols, Hymns, and Spiritual Songs.’ In ‘Songs
of Sundry natures,’ by William Byrd, 1589, there is a Christmas carol
which has been printed by Mr. J. Payne Collier, the distinguished
editor of Shakespeare, in Lyrical Poems, for the Percy Society. In
1597 was published at Edinburgh, ‘Ane Compendioos Booke of Godly and
Spirituall Songs,’ which contains some carols; these with the other
songs were adapted to popular tunes, the intention being to supersede
the use of profaner ballads: it was reprinted in 1801. In ‘Ancient
Scottish Poems,’ Dunbar has inserted one from the Bannatyne MS. In
1630, ‘Certaine of David’s Psalmes, intended for Christmas carolls,
fitted to the most common but solempne tunes, everywhere familiarly
used, by William Slatyr,’ was printed by Robert Young, and a similar
work in 1642. There is one also at the end of Aylett’s ‘Eclogues and
Elegies.’ In Herrick’s ‘Noble Numbers,’ 1640, there are five carols,
or songs in the nature of carols, some of which were set to music by
Henry Lawes, and were sung before the court, and there are many poems
connected with Christmas customs in his other works.
In 1661 was published a collection called ‘New Carolls for this Merry
Time of Christmas, to sundry pleasant Tunes, with new Additions,
never before printed, to be sung to delight the Hearers; printed by H.
B., for Andrew Kemb.’ In the title-page was a print of the Wise Men
discovering the Star. There were likewise ‘Christmas carols, fit also
to be sung at Easter,’ and ‘New Christmas Carols,’ in 1688. Some of
these collections were encouraged by the puritans, to drive away those
of a lighter description; and, in 1684, ‘A Small Garland of Pious and
Godly Songs,’ of this nature, was printed at Ghent, for the purpose of
superseding the popular ballad, and may be assumed to have contained
serious carols for the same purpose.
We must not omit to mention Milton’s ‘Ode and Hymn on the Nativity.’
“It was the winter wild,
While the heaven-born child,
All meanly wrapt, in the rude manger lies;”
and single hymns or carols may be found in other writers, to name which
would only be to swell this, already I fear, too tiresome list. Lewis’s
‘Presbyterian Eloquence,’ 1720, contains a catalogue of Presbyterian
books, in which is the following: ‘A Cabinet of Choice Jewels; or,
the Christian’s Joy and Gladness: set forth in sundry pleasant new
Christmas carols, viz. a carol for Christmas Day, to the tune of Over
Hills and High Mountains; for Christmas Day, at night, to the tune of
My Life and my Death; for St. Stephen’s Day, to the tune of O, cruel
bloody Tale; for New Year’s Day, to the tune of Caper and Firk it; for
Twelfth Day, to the tune of O Mother Roger.’ Several of Poor Robin’s
Almanacs contain carols or Christmas poems.
In the broadside and other lists of chap books, ballads, &c. published
about 150 years ago, the names of several well known carols occur,
as, ‘When Jesus Christ was twelve years old,’ ‘Joseph an aged man
truly,’ ‘Jury came to Jerusalem,’ ‘Angel Gabriel,’ ‘Christus natus
est,’ &c. There is also a small collection printed, about the same
time, by William Thackery, at the Angel, in Duck Lane. The carol,
‘Christians awake, salute the happy morn,’ is said to have been written
by Mr. Greatorex, the father of the late organist, about a century
since, and it is stated that Mr. Webbe, the composer, set one. The
late Mr. Hone, in his work on Mysteries, 1823,—where, as well as in
his ‘Every Day Book,’ ‘Year Book,’ and ‘Table Book,’ much interesting
information may be found relating to Christmas customs—gives a list
of eighty-nine recent carols, and mentions one by Francis Hoffman, in
1729, with the curious title of ‘_A Christmas Carol on Pekoe Tea_’;
or, a Sacred Carol, which like tea that is perfectly good and fine,
will be most useful and grateful all the year round, from Christmas
to Christmas, for ever; humbly addressed to Queen Caroline, and the
princess Carolina, and all the Royal Family.’ Perhaps, if this could
be seen, it might turn out to be a tea-dealer’s puff, for even now
with all our worldly experience, we are occasionally taken in to read
a puff from its innocent and unassuming appearance. There have been
frequent publications of carols, from time to time, for use, according
to the demand, partly in broadsides and partly in the nature of chap
publications, and in a popular form down to the present time, which
need not, and indeed cannot, be enumerated; and the account given of
the old collected publications is not presumed to be perfect.
In 1822 the late Mr. Davies Gilbert published twelve favourite western
carols, with the tunes, and in 1823 a second edition, containing
twenty, with a few old ballads, &c. In 1833, the author of the present
work published a collection of eighty carols, ancient and modern,
with seventeen tunes; and a copy of the Christmas play of St. George
and the Dragon, with an introduction relating to Christmas customs,
the essential part of which has been embodied in these pages. Mr.
Parker, in 1838, printed sixteen original carols, of a devout nature,
with tunes adapted; and Mr. Chappell introduced some carols in his
collection of National English Airs.
In 1847 Mr. Sharpe published eleven Christmas carols, with good
illustrations; and in the same year, Dr. Rimbault, a great musical
antiquary, edited, in a tasteful form, five old carols, with six
tunes. In 1841, as before mentioned, Mr. Wright edited a collection of
forty-nine old Christmas carols, for the Percy Society; and in 1847,
songs and carols for the same Society; they are seventy-six in number,
of which about half may be considered carols; there was an illustrated
collection by Mr. Cundell, in 1846, and there are probably others which
have not come to my knowledge.
Mr. Hervey, in 1836, published the ‘Book of Christmas,’ containing a
good deal of information in a pleasing style, with illustrations; and
two years since a very elegant work was edited by Mr. H. Vizetelly,
called ‘Christmas with the Poets,’ being a selection of poetical
pieces, including some carols from the thirteenth century to the
present time, forming an interesting collection, embellished with fine
woodcuts.
Besides the several broadside carols, and printed collections in town
and country, before referred to, there have been various collections
of Welsh carols; several are among the Myvyrian MSS., belonging to the
Cymmrodorion: No. 14, written about the year 1640, contains thirty-two;
and No. 15, of about the same date, has two. The _Lffyr Carolan_, or
‘Book of Carols,’ fourth edition, Shrewsbury, 1740, comprises sixty-six
carols for Christmas, and five summer carols; and _Blodeugerdd Cymric_,
or the ‘Anthology of Wales,’ Shrewsbury, 1779, contains forty-eight
Christmas carols, nine summer carols, three May carols, one winter
carol, one nightingale carol, and a carol to Cupid, which might
interest my readers, if I could translate it.
The carols printed in the following pages, are taken from a collection
of several hundred English, including the broadside publications for
the last thirty years; and French, including several editions in the
_patois_. Some of the English, according to reputation, have been
known in Cornwall for nearly three hundred years past, and these,
with others, have been obtained from old manuscript copies now in my
possession, or oral tradition from the singers themselves, and the
tunes have been procured in the same way, though I am indebted to my
friend, Mr. Wm. Chappell, for the harmonies.
I have selected, out of several versions of the western Christmas
play of ‘St. George and the Dragon,’ that which seemed best adapted
for the purpose. Specimens have been printed in Hone’s ‘Every Day
Book,’ the ‘Gentleman’s Magazine,’ and the ‘Popular Rhymes’ of Mr.
Halliwell, who has applied his store of reading to the illustration of
our poetical literature. There is a version also in that dialect with
some description, in Jan Trenoodle’s ‘Specimens of Cornish Provincial
Dialect,’ a small work for which I am answerable, and therefore,
perhaps, ought not to refer to it, but I know no other of the sort.
The play of ‘Alexander and the King of Egypt,’ is a representation of
the northern Christmas play, and is taken from a rare printed copy in
my possession. It consists of six pages, with very common paper and
type, the title-page being, ‘Alexander and the King of Egypt. A mock
play, as it is acted by the mummers every Christmas. Newcastle: Printed
in the year 1788,’ It is given here verbatim, with two or three slight
omissions, necessary for modern ears. The great similarity between the
northern and western plays will immediately be seen, showing the common
origin; but these performances must be seen to be properly appreciated.
The mummers, in several parts of the country where they do not go to
the extent of acting the old Christmas play, are generally dressed
somewhat in the manner described for ‘St. George and the Dragon,’ one
of the party being the clown or buffoon of the set; and they have some
doggrel lines, of which a few show symptoms of the same antiquity
as the plays; for rhymes, that appear to have been the _ad libitum_
production of some modern rustic wit, will be introduced, with “A room!
a room! a gallant room!” or some such line, and the characters are
then introduced in the style of the plays, and this style, as before
referred to, is as old as the Mysteries; take, for example, a specimen
from the sixth of the Chester Plays, where the Nuntius says,—
“Make rombe, lordinges, and geve us waie,
And lette Octavian come and plaie;
And Syble the Sage, that well fayer maye,
To tell you of propheseye.”
Two or three specimens of these mummers’ songs are given by Mr. Dixon,
in his ‘Collection of Ballads and Songs of the Peasantry of England,’
edited for the Percy Society in 1846. These mummings, as well as the
plays and carol singings, end in an appeal to the box, and right
enough too; for, do not we all, when we have given our services for
any purpose, carry round the box, in some shape or other, whether the
clergyman for his tithes, the lawyer and physician for their fees, the
soldier for his pay, or the statesman for his salary?
In the selection of Carols, I have tried to vary them in age, style,
and subject, as far as the materials would permit, without making it
too long; and trust that I may, throughout this work, have succeeded
in my endeavour to gratify, and not to satiate my readers. I have to
express my thanks to Mr. James Stephanoff, for the interest he has
taken in the subjects entrusted to his pencil, and the skill and spirit
with which he has treated them. The design for the binding has been
given by my brother, Mr. Sampson Sandys; and from the well-known zeal
and ability of the publisher and printer, I am placed in this awkward
predicament, that any failure must rest with myself; and I am fully
aware that it can be no excuse, that the work was undertaken as a
relief, from the pressure of repeated domestic losses of the severest
nature: but I can unaffectedly say, “If I have done well, and as is
fitting the story, it is that which I desired; but, if slenderly and
meanly, it is that which I could attain unto.”
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
Carols.
I.
SEIGNORS, ore entendez à nus,
De loinz sumes venuz à vous,
Pur quere noël;
Car l’em nus dit que en cest hostel,
Soleit tenir sa feste anuel,
Ahi, cest jur.
Deu doint à tuz icels joie d’amurs,
Qui à danz noël ferunt honors!
Seignors, jo vus dis por veir,
Ke danz noël ne velt aveir,
Si joie non;
E repleni sa maison,
De payn, de char, e de peison,
Por faire honor.
Deu doint à tuz ces joie d’amur!
Seignors, il est crié en l’ost,
Que cil qui despent bien, e tost,
E largement;
E fet les granz honors sovent,
Deu li duble quanque il despent,
Por faire honor.
Deu doint à....
Seignors, escriez les malveis,
Car vuz nel les troverez jameis
De bone part;
Botun, batun, ferun, groinard,
Car tot dis a le quer cunard,
Por faire honor.
Deu doint....
Noël beyt bien li vin Engleis,
E li Gascoin, e li Franceys,
E l’Angevin;
Noël fait beivere son veisin,
Si qu’il se dort, le chief enclin,
Sovent le jor.
Deu doint à tuz cels....
Seignors, jo vus di par noël,
E par li sires de cest hostel,
Car bevez ben;
E jo primes beverai le men,
E pois après chescon le soen,
Par mon conseil;
Si jo vus di trestoz; ‘Wesseyl!’
Dehaiz eit qui ne dirra, ‘Drincheyl!’
[Illustration]
II.
LORDINGS, from a distant home,
To seek old Christmas we are come,
Who loves our minstrelsy:
And here, unless report mis-say,
The grey-beard dwells, and on this day,
Keeps yearly wassel, ever gay,
With festive mirth and glee.
To all who honour Christmas, and commend our lays,
Love will his blessings send, and crown with joy their days.
Lordings list, for we tell you true,
Christmas loves the jolly crew
That cloudy care defy:
His liberal board is deftly spread
With manchet loaves and wastel-bread;
His guests with fish and flesh are fed,
Nor lack the stately pye.
Lordings, you know that far and near,
The saying is, “Who gives good cheer,
And freely spends his treasure;
On him will bounteous Heaven bestow
Twice treble blessings here below;
His happy hours shall sweetly flow,
In never-ceasing pleasure.”
Lordings, believe us, knaves abound,
In every place are flatterers found,
May all their arts be vain!
But chiefly from these scenes of joy,
Chase sordid souls that mirth annoy,
And all who with their base alloy,
Turn pleasure into pain.
Christmas quaffs our English wines,
Nor Gascoigne juice, nor French declines,
Nor liquor of Anjou:
He puts th’ insidious goblet round,
Till all the guests in sleep are drown’d
Then wakes ’em with the tabor’s sound,
And plays the prank anew.
Lordings, it is our host’s command,
And Christmas joins him hand in hand,
To drain the brimming bowl:
And I’ll be foremost to obey:
Then pledge me, sirs, and drink away,
For Christmas revels here to day,
And sways without controul.
Now wassel to you all, and merry may ye be!
But foul that wight befall, who drinks not health to me!
III.
WELCŪ ȝole in good array,
In worship of þ^{e} holiday,
Welcū be þ^{u} heuē kyng,
Welcū þ^{u} born ī on mornyng,
Welcū to þ^{e} now wil we syng,
Welcū ȝole for eu^{r} & ay,
Welcū be þ^{u} mare myld,
Welcū be þ^{u} & þ^{i} child,
Welcū fro þ^{e} fynd þ^{u} as schilde,
Welcū ȝole for eu^{r} & ay,
Welcū be ȝ^{e} steuē & ione,
Welcū childrn eūechone,
Welcū thomas, mart^{r}, all on,
Welcū ȝole for eu^{r} & ay,
Welcū be þ^{u} good newyere,
Welcū þ^{e} xij days efere,
Welcū be ye all þ~t~ bene here,
Welcū ȝole for ew^{r} & ay,
Welcū be ȝe lord and lady,
Welcū be ȝe all þis cūpane,
ffore ȝolis love makis mere,
Welcū ȝole fore ew^{r} & ay.
IV.
NAY iuy, nay, hyt shall not be I wys,
Let holy hafe þ^{e} maystry as þ^{e} maner ys.
Holy stond in þ^{e} hall fayre to behold,
Iuy stond w^{t} out þ^{e} dore, she ys ful sore a cold.
Nay iuy, &c.
Holy and hys mery men þey dawnsyn & þey syng,
Iuy and her maydenys þey wepyn & þey wryng.
Nay, &c.
Iuy hath a lyve she laghtyt w^{t} þe colde,
So mot þey all ha fae þ^{t} w^{t} jvy hold.
Nay iuy, nay, hyt, &c.
Holy hat berys as rede as any rose,
The foster þe hunters kepe hem fro þe dos.
Nay iuy, nay, hyt, &c.
Iuy hath berys as blake as any slo,
Ther com þe oule & ete hym as she goo.
Nay iuy, nay, hyt, &c.
Holy hath byrdys a ful fayre flok,
The nyghtyngale þe perpyinguy, þe gayntyl lauyrok.
Nay, &c.
Gode iuy what byrdys ast þu?
Non but þe howlat þ^{t} kreye how how.
Nay iuy, nay, hyt shal not, &c.
V.
NOW ys Crystemas y-cum,
Fadyr and Son togedyr in oon,
Holy Goste, as ye be oon,
in fere-a,
God sende us a good n(e)w yere-a.
I wolde yow synge for and I mygȝhgt,
Off a chylde ys fayre in syghgȝt,
Hys modyr hym bare thys yndyrs nyghȝt
so stylle-a,
And as yt was hys wylle-a.
There cam iij kynges fro Galylee
Into Bethleem, that fayre cytee,
To seke hym that ever shulde be
by ryghȝt-a
Lorde and kynge and knyghȝt-a.
As they cam forth with there offrynge,
They met with Herode that mody kynge,
thys tyde-a,
And thys to them he sayde-a.
“Off wens be ye, yow kynges iij.?
Off the Este, as ye may see,
To seke hym that ever shulde be
by ryghgȝt-a
Lorde and kynge and knyghȝt-a.”
“Wen yow at thys chylde have be,
Cum home aȝeyne by me,
Tell me the syghȝtes that yow have see,
I praye yow;
Go yow no nodyr way-a.”
They toke her leve both olde and yonge
Off Herode that mody kynge;
They went forth with there offrynge
by lyghȝth-a,
By the sterre that shoone so bryghȝt-a.
Tyll they cam in to the place
There Jhesu and hys modyr was,
Offryd they up with grete solace
in fere-a
Golde and sence and myrre-a.
The fadyr of hevyn an awngylle down sent,
To thyke iij kynges that made presente
thys tyde-a,
And thys to them he sayd-a.
“My lorde have warnyd yow everychone,
By Herode kynge yow go not home;
For and yow do, he wylle you slone
and strye-a.
And hurte yow wondyrly-a.”
Forthe them wente thys kynges iij,
Tylle they cam home to there cuntré
Glade and blyth they were alle iij,
Off the syghȝtes that they had see,
by-dene-a.
The cumpany was clene-a.
Knele we now here a-down,
Pray we in good devocioun
To the kynge of grete renown,
of grace-a,
In hevyn to have a place-a.
VI.
NOWELL, nowell, nowell, nowell,
Tydyng gode y thyngke to telle.
The borys hede, that we bryng here,
Betokeneth a prince withoute pere,
Ys born this day to bye us dere,
Nowell.
A bore ys a souerayn beste,
And acceptable in eury feste,
So mote thys lord be to moste and leste,
Nowell.
This borys hede we bryng w~t~ song,
In worchyp of hym that thus sprang
Of a virgyne to redresse all wrong.
Nowell.
[Illustration]
VII.
NOWELL, nowell, nowell, nowell.
Who ys there that syngith so nowell, nowell?
I am here, syre Cristsmasse;
Well, come, my lord s^{r} Crstsmasse,
Welcome to vs all bothe more & lasse,
Com ner, nowell.
_Dievs wous garde brewe s^{rs}_ tydyge y ȝow bryng.
A mayde hath borne a chylde full ȝong,
The weche causeth ȝew for to syng,
Nowell.
Criste is now born of a pure mayde,
In an oxe stalle he ys layde,
Wher’for syng we alle atte abrayde,
Nowell.
_Bevvex bien par tutte la company_,
Make gode chere and be ryght mery,
And syng w^{t} vs now ioyfully,
Nowell.
VIII.
A Bonne God wote!
Stickes in my throate,
Without I have a draught
Of cornie aile,
Nappy and staile,
My lyffe lyes in great wauste.
Some ayle or beare,
Gentill butlere,
Some lycoure thou hus showe,
Such as you mashe,
Our throates to washe,
The best were that yow brew.
Saint, master, and knight,
That Saint Mault hight,
Were prest betwen two stones;
That swet humour
Of his lycoure
Would make us sing at once.
Mr. Wortley,
I dar well say,
I tell you as I thinke,
Would not, I say,
Byd hus this day,
But that we shuld have drink.
His men so tall
Walkes up his hall,
With many a comly dishe;
Of his good meat
I cannot eate,
Without a drink i-wysse;
Now gyve hus drink,
And let cat wynke,
I tell you all at once,
Yt stickes so sore,
I may sing no more,
Tyll I have dronken once.
IX.
Nowel el el el, now is wel that evere was woo.
A BABE is born al of a may,
In the savasyoun of us,
To hem we syngyn bothe nyȝht and day,
_Veni creator spiritus_.
At Bedlem that blyssid pas,
The chylde of blysse born he was,
Hym to serve, go ȝeve us gras,
_O lux beata trinitas_.
Ther come thre kynges out of the est,
To worchepe the Kyng that is so fre,
With gold and myrre and francincens,
_A solis ortus cardine_.
The herdes herdyn an aungele cry,
A merye song then sungyn he,
Qwy arn ȝe so sore a-gast?
_Jam ortus solis cardine_.
The aungele comyn down with on cry,
A fayr song then sungyn he,
In the worchepe of that chyld,
_Gloria tibi, Domine_.
[Illustration]
X.
Make we myrth,
For Crystes byrth,
And syng we ȝole tyl Candelmes.
THE fyrst day of ȝole have we in mynd,
How God was man born of owre kynd;
For he the bondes wold onbynd
Of all owre synnes and wykednes.
The secund day we syng of Stevene,
That stoned and steyyd up even
To God that he saw stond in hevyn,
And crounned was for hys prouesse.
The iij day longeth to sent Johan,
That was Cristys darlyng, derer non,
Whom he betok, whan he shuld gon,
Hys moder der for hyr clennesse.
The iiij day of the chyldren ȝong,
That Herowd to deth had do with wrong,
And Crist thei coud non tell with tong,
But with ther blod bar hym wytnesse.
The v day longeth to sent Thomas,
That, as a strong pyller of bras,
Held up the chyrch, and sclayn he was,
For he sted with ryȝtwesnesse.
The viij day tok Jhesu hys name,
That saved mankynd fro syn and shame,
And circumsysed was for no blame,
But for ensample of meknesse.
The xij day offerd to hym kynges iij,
Gold, myr, and cense, thes gyftes free,
For God, and man, and kyng was he,
Thus worschyppyd thei his worthynes.
On the xl day cam Mary myld,
Unto the temple with hyr chyld,
To shew hyr clen that never was fylyd,
And therwith endyth Crystmes.
XI.
BLYSSID be that lady bryght,
That bare a chyld off great myght,
Withouten peyne, as it was right,
Mayd mother Marye.
Goddys sonne is borne, his moder is a maid,
Both aftur and beforne, as the prophycy said,
With ay;
A wonder thyng it is to se,
How mayden and moder on may be;
Was there nonne but she,
Maid moder Marye.
The great lord of heaven our servant is becom,
Thorow Gabriels stevyn, owr kynd have benom,
With ay;
A wonder thyng it is to se,
How lord and servant on may be;
Was ther never nonne but he,
Born off maid Marye.
Two sons togyther they owght to shyne bryght;
So did that fayer ladye, whan Jesu in hir light,
With ay;
A wonder thyng is fall,
The lord that bought fre and thrall,
Is found in an assis stall,
By his moder Mary.
The shepherdes in her region thei lokyd into Heaven,
Thei se an angell commyng down, that said with myld steven.
With ay;
Joy be to God almyght,
And pece in yerth to man is dyte,
Fore God was born on Chrismes nyght,
Off his moder Marye.
Thre kynges off great noblay, whan that chyld was born,
To hym they tok the redy way, and kneled hym beforn,
With ay;
Thes iij kynges cam fro fare,
Thorow ledyng of a stare,
And offered hym gold, encence, and mure.
And to hys moder Mary.
XII.
HEY, hey, hey, hey, the borrys hede is armyd gay.
The boris hede in hond I bryng,
With garlond gay in porttoryng,
I pray yow alle with me to synge,
With hay.
Lordys, knyȝttes, and skyers,
Persons, prystis, and wycars,
The boris hede ys the furt mes,
With hay.
The boris hede, as I yow say,
He takis his leyfe, and gothe his way,
Gone after the xij, theyl ffyt day,
With hay.
Then commys in the secunde kowrs with mykylle pryde,
The crannus, the heyrrouns, the bytteris by ther syde,
The pertrychys and the plowers, the wodcokus and the snyt,
With hay.
Larkys in hot schow, ladys for to pyk,
Good drynk therto, lycyus and fyne,
Blwet of allmayne, romnay and wyin,
With hay.
Gud bred alle and wyin dare I welle say,
The boris hede with musterd armyd soo gay;
Furmante to pottage, with wennissun fyne,
And the hombuls of the dow, and all that ever commis in;
Cappons i-bake, with the pesys of the roow,
Reysons of corrons, with odyre spysis moo.
XIII.
Caput afri differo
Reddens laudes domino.
THE bore’s heed in hand bring I,
With garlans gay and rosemary,
I pray you all synge merely
Qui estis in convivio.
The bore’s heed, I vnderstande,
Is the chefe seruyce in this lande;
Loke, where euer it be fande,
Seruite cum cantico.
Be gladde lordes, bothe more and lasse,
For this hath ordeyned our stewarde,
To chere you all this Christmasse,
The bores heed with mustarde.
XIV.
In Betheleem.
BE we mery in this feste,
In quo saluator natus est.
In Betheleem, that noble place,
As by prophesy sayd it was,
Of the vyrgyn Mary, full of grace,
Saluator mundi natus est.
Be we mery, &c.
On Chrystmas nyght, an angel it tolde
To the shephardes, kepyng theyr folde,
That into Betheleem with bestes wolde,
Saluator mundi natus est.
Be we mery, &c.
The shephardes were copassed ryght,
About them was a great lyght,
Drede ye nought, sayd the angell bryght,
Saluator mundi natus est.
Be we mery, &c.
Beholde to you we brynge great ioy,
For why, Jesus is borne this day
(To vs) of Mary, that mylde may,
Saluator mundi natus est.
Be mery, &c.
And thus in fayth fynde it ye shall,
Lyenge porely in an oxe stall.
The shephardes than lauded God all,
Quia Saluator mundi natus est.
Be mery, &c.
XV.
Sung to the Tune of “ESSEX LAST GOOD NIGHT.”
ALL you that in this house be here,
Remember Christ that for us dy’d,
And spend away with modest cheere,
In loving sort this Christmas tide.
And whereas plenty God hath sent,
Give frankly to your friends in love:
The bounteous mind is freely bent,
And never will a niggard prove.
Our table spread within the hall,
I know a banquet is at hand,
And friendly sort to welcome all
That wil unto their tacklings stand.
The maids are bonny girles I see,
Who have provided much good cheer,
Which at my dame’s commandment be
To set it on the table here.
For I have here two knives in store,
To lend to him that wanteth one;
Commend my wits, good lads, therefore,
That comes now hither having none.
For if I schuld, no Christmas pye
Would fall, I doubt, unto my share;
Wherefore I will my manhood try,
To fight a battle if I dare.
For pastry-crust, like castle walls,
Stands braving me unto my face;
I am not well until it falls,
And I made captain of the place.
The prunes so lovely look on me,
I cannot chuse but venture on:
The pye-meat spiced brave I see,
The which I must not let alone.
Then, butler, fill me forth some beer,
My song hath made me somewhat dry:
And so again to this good cheer,
I’le quickly fall couragiously.
And for my master I will pray,
With all that of his household are,
Both old and young, that long we may
Of God’s good blessings have a share.
XVI.
REMEMBER, O thou man, O thou man!
Remember, O thou man!
Thy time is spent;
Remember, O thou man, how thou art dead and gone,
And I did what I can, therefore repent;
Remember Adam’s fall,
O thou man, O thou man!
Remember Adam’s fall,
From heaven to hell;
Remember Adam’s fall,
How we were condemned all,
In hell perpetuall
Therefor to dwell.
Remember God’s goodnesse,
O thou man, man, O thou man!
Remember God’s goodnesse,
And his promise made,
Remember God’s goodnesse,
How he sent his sonne doutlesse,
Our sinnes for to redresse,
Be not affraid.
The angels all did sing,
O thou man, O thou man!
The angels all did sing,
Vpon the shepheardes hill.
The angels all did singe,
Praises to our heauenly King,
And peace to man liuing,
With a good will.
The shepheards amazed was,
O thou man, O thou man!
The shepheards amazed was,
To heare the angels sing;
The shepheards amazed was,
How it should come to passe,
That Christ, our Messias,
Should be our King.
To Bethlem did they goe,
O thou man, O thou man!
To Bethlem did they go,
The shepheards three;
To Bethlem did they goe,
To see where it were so or no.
Whether Christ were borne or no,
To set man free.
As the angels before did say,
O thou man, O thou man!
As the angels before did say,
So it came to passe;
As the angels before did say,
The found a babe where it lay.
In a manger wrapt in hay,
So poor he was.
In Bethlem he was borne,
O thou man, O thou man!
In Bethlem he was borne,
For mankind sake;
In Bethlem he was borne,
For vs that were forlorne,
And therefore tooke no scorne,
Our flesh to take.
Giue thanks to God always,
O thou man, O thou man!
Giue thanks to God always,
With heart most ioyfully;
Giue thankes to God always,
For this our happy day:
Let all men sing and say,
Holy, holy.
XVII.
JESUS Christ of Nazareth,
He is born of a maiden pure,
Wherein God is blessed.
All the angels of the kingdom of Heaven,
And all the shepherds of earth
They sung, they had great joy.
When Herod became aware
That a little child was born,
Then had he in his heart great spite.
He had search made here and there,
For young children of two years,
All of which he deprived of life.
When our Lady heard this,
And that Herod was thus massacring infants,
She felt in her heart great grief.
She spoke to Joseph without delay;
Get you ready, we must away,
We should be gone, ’tis more than time.
All the angels of the kingdom of Heaven,
And all the clergy of the earth,
They all delighted were and glad!
Jesus Christ of Nazareth,
He is born of a maiden pure,
Wherein God is blessed.
XVIII.
IN those twelve days, and in those twelve days, let us be glad,
For God of his power hath all things made.
What is that which is but one?
We have but one God alone,
In Heaven above sits on his throne.
What are they which are but two?
Two Testaments, as we are told,
The one is New and the other Old.
And in those, &c.
What are they that are but three?
Three persons in the Trinity,
To Father, Son, and Ghost Holy.
And in those, &c.
What are they that are but four?
Four Gospels written true,
John, Luke, Mark, and Matthew.
And in those, &c.
What are they that are but five?
Five senses we have to tell,
God grant us grace to use them well.
And in those, &c.
What are they that are but six?
Six ages this world shall last,
Five of them are gone and past.
And in those, &c.
What are they that are but seven?
Seven days in the week have we,
Six to work and the seventh holy.
And in those, &c.
What are they that are but eight?
Eight beatitudes are given,
Use them well and go to Heaven.
And in those, &c.
What are they that are but nine?
Nine degrees of angels high,
Which praise God continually.
And in those, &c.
What are they that are but ten?
Ten commandments God hath given,
Keep them right and go to Heaven.
And in those, &c.
What are they that are but eleven?
Eleven thousand virgins did partake,
And suffered death for Jesus’ sake.
And in those, &c.
What are they that are but twelve?
Twelve apostles Christ did chuse,
To preach the Gospel to the Jews.
And in those, &c.
[Illustration]
XIX.
JOSEPH was an old man, and an old man was he,
When he wedded Mary, in the land of Galilee;
When Joseph and Mary walked in the garden good,
There was cherries and berries as red as the blood.
O then bespoke Mary, so meek and so mild,
Pluck me some cherries, Joseph, for I am with child;
O then bespoke Joseph, with words so unkind,
Let him pluck the cherries that brought thee with child.
O then bespoke Jesus in his mother’s womb,
Bow down then the tallest tree, that my mother may have some;
Then bowed down the tallest tree, it bent to Mary’s hand,
Then she cried, See, Joseph, I have cherries at command.
O then bespoke Joseph, I have done Mary wrong,
But cheer up, my dearest, and be not cast down;
Then Joseph and Mary did to Bethlehem go,
And with travels were weary walking to and fro.
They sought for a lodging, but the inns were fill’d all,
They, alas! could not have it, but in an ox’s stall;
But before the next morning our Saviour was born,
In the month of December, Christmas Day in the morn.
[Illustration]
XX.
A CHILD this day is born,
A child of high renown,
Most worthy of a sceptre,
A sceptre and a crown.
Novels, novels, novels,
Novels, sing all we may,
Because the King of all kings
Was born this blessed day.
The which the holy prophets
Spake of long time before,
That from the fall of Adam
He should us all restore.
Novels, &c.
This child, both God and man,
From Heaven down to us came,
He is the King of all kings,
And Jesus is his name
Novels, &c.
These tidings shepherds heard,
In field watching their fold,
Were by an angel unto them,
That night reveal’d and told.
Novels, &c.
Who standing near by them,
To them shined so bright,
That they amazed were
At that most glorious sight.
Novels, &c.
To whom the angel spoke,
Saying, Be not afraid,
Be glad, poor silly shepherds,
Why are you so dismayed?
Novels, &c.
For lo! I bring you tidings
Of gladness and of mirth,
Which cometh to all people by
This holy infant’s birth.
Novels, &c.
Him hath God lifted up,
As light and shepherd’s horn,
Which in the city of David,
This present time was born.
Novels, &c.
The only Son of God was he,
The Lord and God most highest;
And He is the true shepherd,
The young child Jesus Christ.
Novels, &c.
Then was there with the angel,
An host incontinent
Of heavenly bright soldiers,
Which from the highest was sent.
Novels, &c.
Lauding the Lord our God,
And his celestial king;
All glory be in Paradise,
This heavenly host did sing.
Novels, &c.
Glory be unto our God,
That sitteth still on high,
With praises and with triumph great,
And joyful melody.
Novels, &c.
But when this holy army
Of heavenly soldiers bright,
Was unto God returned,
And vanish’d out of sight.
Novels, &c.
The shepherds’ hearts joyful,
At this great glorious news,
That the King of all kings
Was risen amongst the Jews.
Novels, &c.
Without the least of hinderance,
Anon they went in then,
And found the young child, Jesus Christ,
Thus born in Bethlehem.
Novels, &c.
And as the angel told them,
So to them did appear;
They found the young child, Jesus Christ,
With Mary, his mother dear.
Novels, &c.
Now such a place it was,
Where this was come to pass,
For want of room this child was laid
Betwixt an ox and ass.
Novels, &c.
Not sumptuously, but simply,
Was this young King array’d;
A manger was the cradle,
Where this young child was laid.
Novels, &c.
No pride at all was found
In this most holy child,
But he being void of all sin,
The lamb of God most mild.
Novels, &c.
His body unto bitter pains
He gave to set us free;
He is our Saviour, Jesus Christ,
And none but only he.
Novels, &c.
To Father, Son, and Holy Ghost,
All glory be therefore,
To whom be all dominion
Both now and evermore.
Novels, &c.
XXI.
AS I passed by a river side,
And there as I did reign,
In argument I chanced to hear
A carnal and a crane.
The carnal said unto the crane,
If all the world should turn,
Before we had the Father,
But now we have the Son.
From whence does the Son come?
From where and from what place?
He said, In a manger,
Between an ox and ass!
I pray thee, said the carnal,
Tell me before thou go,
Was not the mother of Jesus
Conceived by the Holy Ghost?
She was the purest virgin.
And the cleanest from sin;
She was the handmaid of our Lord,
And mother of our King.
Where is the golden cradle
That Christ was rocked in?
Where are the silken sheets
That Jesus was wrapt in?
A manger was the cradle
That Christ was rocked in;
The provender the asses left,
So sweetly he slept on.
There was a star in the West land,
So bright it did appear,
Into king Herod’s chamber,
And where king Herod were.
The wise men soon espied it,
And told the king on high,
A princely Babe was born that night,
No king could e’er destroy.
If this be true, king Herod said,
As thou tellest unto me,
This roasted cock that lies in the dish
Shall crow full fences three.
The cock soon freshly feather’d was,
By the work of God’s own hand,
And then three fences crowed he,
In the dish where he did stand.
Rise up, rise up, you merry men all,
See that you ready be,
All children under two years old
Now slain they all shall be.
Then Jesus, ah! and Joseph,
And Mary, that was so pure,
They travell’d into Egypt,
As you shall find it sure.
And when they came to Egypt’s land,
Amongst those fierce wild beasts,
Mary, she being weary.
Must needs sit down to rest.
Come sit thee down, says Jesus,
Come sit thee down by me,
And thou shalt see how these wild beasts
Do come and worship me.
First, came the lovely lion,
Which Jesus’s grace did spring,
And of the wild beasts in the field,
The lion shall be king.
We’ll choose our virtuous princes.
Of birth and high degree,
In every sundry nation,
Where’er we come and see.
Then Jesus, ah! and Joseph,
And Mary, that was unknown,
They travelled by a husbandman,
Just while his seed was sown.
God speed thee, man! said Jesus,
Go fetch thy ox and wain,
And carry home thy corn again,
Which thou this day hast sown.
The husbandman fell on his knees,
Even before his face;
Long time hast Thou been looked for.
But now Thou art come at last.
And I myself do now believe
Thy name is Jesus called;
Redeemer of mankind thou art,
Though undeserving all.
The truth, man, thou hast spoken,
Of it thou mayest be sure,
For I must lose my precious blood
For thee and thousands more.
If any one should come this way,
And enquire for me alone,
Tell him that Jesus passed by
As thou thy seed did sow.
After that there came king Herod,
With his train so furiously,
Enquiring of the husbandman
Whether Jesus passed by.
Why the truth it must be spoke,
And the truth it must be known,
For Jesus passed by this way,
When my seed was sown.
But now I have it reapen,
And some laid on my wain,
Ready to fetch and carry
Into my barn again.
Turn back, says the captain,
Your labour and mine’s in vain,
It’s full three quarters of a year
Since he his seed has sown.
So Herod was deceived,
By the work of God’s own hand,
And further he proceeded
Into the Holy Land.
There’s thousands of children young,
Which for his sake did die;
Do not forbid those little ones,
And do not them deny.
The truth now I have spoken,
And the truth now I have shown;
Even the blessed virgin,
She’s now brought forth a Son.
XXII.
AS it fell out one May morning,
And upon one bright holiday,
Sweet Jesus asked of his dear mother,
If He might go to play.
To play, to play, sweet Jesus shall go,
And to play pray get you gone,
And let me hear of no complaint,
At night when you come home.
Sweet Jesus went down to yonder town,
As far as the Holy Well,
And there did see as fine children
As any tongue can tell.
He said, God bless you every one,
And your bodies Christ save and see;
Little children, shall I play with you,
And you shall play with me?
But they made answer to him, No!
They were lords’ and ladies’ sons;
And He, the meanest of them all,
A maiden’s child, born in an oxen’s stall.
Sweet Jesus turned him around,
And he neither laugh’d nor smil’d,
But the tears came trickling from his eyes,
Like water from the skies.
Sweet Jesus turned him about,
To his mother’s dear home went he,
And said, I have been in yonder town,
As after you may see.
I have been down in yonder town,
As far as the Holy Well,
And there did I meet as fine children
As any tongue can tell.
I bid God bless them every one,
And their bodies Christ save and see;
Little children, shall I play with you,
And you shall play with me?
But they made answer to me, No!
They were lords’ and ladies’ sons,
And I, the meanest of them all,
A maiden’s child, born in an ox’s stall.
Though you are but a maiden’s child,
Born in an ox’s stall,
Thou art the Christ, the King of Heaven,
And the Saviour of them all.
Sweet Jesus go down to yonder town,
As far as the Holy Well,
And take away those sinful souls
And dip them deep in hell.
Nay, nay, sweet Jesus said,
Nay, nay, that may not be,
For there are too many sinful souls
Crying out for the help of me.
O then spoke the angel Gabriel,
Upon one good Saint Stephen,
Altho’ you’re but a maiden’s child,
You are the King of Heaven.
XXIII.
A VIRGIN most pure as the prophets do tell,
Hath brought forth a babe, as it hath befell,
To be our Redeemer from death, hell, and sin,
Which Adam’s transgression had wrapt us all in.
Rejoice and be you merry, set sorrow aside,
Christ Jesus our Saviour was born on this tide.
In Bethlehem city, in Jury it was,
Where Joseph and Mary together did pass,
And there to be taxed with many one more,
For Cæsar commanded the same should be so.
Rejoice, &c.
But when they had entered the city so far,
The number of people so mighty was there,
That Joseph and Mary whose substance was small,
Could get in the city no lodging at all.
Rejoice, &c.
Then they were constrained in a stable to lie,
Where oxen and asses they used to tie;
Their lodging so simple, they held it no scorn,
But against the next morning our Saviour was born.
Rejoice, &c.
The King of all Glory to the world being brought,
Small store of fine linen to wrap him was bought;
When Mary had swaddled her young son so sweet,
Within an ox manger, she laid him to sleep.
Rejoice, &c.
Then God sent an angel from heaven so high,
To certain poor shepherds in fields where they lie,
And bid them no longer in sorrow to stay,
Because that our Saviour was born on this day.
Rejoice, &c.
Then presently after the shepherds did spy
A number of angels appear in the sky,
Who joyfully talked and sweetly did sing,
To God be all glory, our Heavenly King.
Rejoice, &c.
Three certain wise princes, they thought it most meet,
To lay their rich offerings at our Saviour’s feet;
Then the shepherds consented and to Bethlehem did go,
And when they came thither, they found it was so.
Rejoice, &c.
[Illustration]
XXIV.
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 Jury,
This blessed babe was born,
And laid within a manger
Upon this blessed morn;
The which his mother Mary
Did nothing take in scorn.
O tidings, &c.
From God, our Heavenly Father,
A blessed angel came,
And unto certain shepherds
Brought tidings of the same,
That there was born in Bethlehem
The Son of God by name.
O tidings, &c.
Fear not then, said the Angel,
Let nothing you affright,
This day is born a Saviour
Of a pure Virgin bright;
So frequently to vanquish all
The friends of Satan quite.
O tidings, &c.
The shepherds at these tidings
Rejoiced 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, &c.
But when they came to Bethlehem,
Where our dear Saviour lay,
They found Him in a manger,
Where oxen fed on hay;
His mother, Mary, kneeling,
Unto the Lord did pray.
O tidings, &c.
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, &c.
XXV.
GOD’S dear Son without beginning,
Whom the wicked Jews did scorn;
The only wise without all sinning
On this blessed day was born.
To save us all from sin and thrall,
When we in Satan’s chains were bound,
And shed his blood to do us good,
With many a purple bleeding wound.
At Bethlehem, king David’s city,
Mary’s Babe had sweet creation,
God and Man endu’d with pity,
And a Saviour of each nation.
Yet Jewry land with cruel hand,
Both first and last his power envy’d;
Where He was born, they did Him scorn,
And shew’d Him malice when He died.
No princely palace for our Saviour,
In Judea could be found.
But blessed Mary’s meek behaviour,
Patiently upon the ground,
Her babe did place in vile disgrace,
Where oxen in their stalls did feed;
No midwife mild had this sweet Child,
Nor woman’s help at mother’s need.
No kingly robes nor golden treasure
Deck’d the birth-day of God’s Son;
No pompal train at all took pleasure
To this King of kings to run.
No mantle brave could Jesus have,
Upon His cradle for to lye;
No musick’s charms in nurse’s arms,
To sing the Babe a lullaby.
Yet as Mary sat in solace,
By our Saviour’s first beginning,
Hosts of angels from God’s palace
Sounded sweet from Heaven singing;
Yea, heaven and earth, for Jesus’ birth,
With sweet melodious tunes abound,
And every thing for Jewry’s King,
Upon the earth gave chearful sound.
Then with angel’s love inspired,
The wise princes from the East,
To Bethlehem as they desired,
Came whereas the Lord did rest:
And there they laid before the maid,
Before her Son, our God and King,
Their offerings sweet, as was most meet,
Unto so great a power to bring.
Now to Him that us redeemed,
By His precious death and passion;
And us sinners so esteemed
To buy us dearly thus salvation;
Yield lasting fame that still the name
Of Jesus may be honored here;
And let us say that Christmas Day
Is still the best day in the year.
XXVI.
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?
Our Saviour Christ and his lady,
On Christmas Day, on Christmas Day;
Our Saviour Christ and his lady,
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.
XXVII.
THE first nowell the angel did say
Was to three poor shepherds in the fields as they lay;
In fields where they lay keeping their sheep,
In a cold winter’s night that was so deep.
Nowell, nowell, nowell, nowell,
Born is the King of Israel.
They looked up and saw a star
Shining in the east, beyond them far,
And to the earth it gave great light,
And so it continued both day and night.
Nowell, &c.
And by the light of that same star,
Three wise men came from country far;
To seek for a King was their intent,
And to follow the star wherever it went.
Nowell, &c.
This star drew nigh to the north-west,
O’er Bethlehem it took its rest,
And there it did both stop and stay
Right over the place where Jesus lay.
Nowell, &c.
Then did they know assuredly
Within that house the King did lie;
One entered in then for to see,
And found the Babe in poverty.
Nowell, &c.
Then enter’d in those wise men three,
Most reverently upon their knee,
And offer’d there, in His presence,
Both gold, and myrrh, and frankincense.
Nowell, &c.
Between an ox-stall and an ass,
This child truly there born He was;
For want of clothing they did Him lay
All in the manger, among the hay.
Nowell, &c.
Then let us all, with one accord,
Sing praises to our Heavenly Lord,
That hath made Heaven and earth of nought,
And with His blood mankind hath bought.
Nowell, &c.
If we in our time shall do well,
We shall be free from death and hell;
For God hath prepared for us all
A resting-place in general.
Nowell, &c.
XXVIII.
THE Lord at first had Adam made
Out of the dust and clay,
And in his nostrils breathed life,
E’en as the Scriptures say;
And then in Eden’s Paradise
He placed him to dwell,
That he within it should remain,
To dress and keep it well.
Now let good Christians all begin
An holy life to live,
And to rejoice and merry be,
For this is Christmas Eve.
And thus within the garden he
Commanded was to stay;
And unto him in commandment
These words the Lord did say:
“The fruit that in the garden grows
To thee shall be for meat,
Except the tree in the midst thereof,
Of which thou shalt not eat.
Now let good, &c.
“For in that day thou dost it touch,
Or dost it then come nigh,
And if that thou dost eat thereof,
Then thou shalt surely die.”
But Adam he did take no heed
To that same only thing,
But did transgress God’s holy laws,
And sore was wrapp’d in sin.
Now let good, &c.
Now mark the goodness of the Lord,
Which He to mankind bore;
His mercy soon he did extend
Lost man for to restore;
And then, for to redeem our souls
From death, and hell, and thrall,
He said his own dear Son should come
The Saviour of us all.
Now let good, &c.
Which promise now is brought to pass,
Christians believe it well,
And by the coming of God’s Son,
We are redeem’d from hell.
And if we truly do believe,
And do the thing that’s right,
Then by His merits we at last
Shall live in Heaven bright.
Now let good, &c.
Now, for the benefits that we
Enjoy from Heaven above,
Let us renounce all wickedness,
And live in perfect love.
Then shall we do Christ’s own command,
Even his written word;
And when we die, in Heaven we shall
Enjoy our living Lord.
Now let good, &c.
And now the tide is nigh at hand,
In which our Saviour came;
Let us rejoice and merry be,
In keeping of the same.
Let’s feed the poor and hungry sort,
And such as do it crave;
And when we die, in Heaven be sure
Our reward we shall have.
Now let good, &c.
XXIX.
TO-MORROW shall be my dancing day,
I would my true love did so chance
To see the legend of my play,
To call my true love to my dance.
Sing, oh! my love, oh! my love, my love, my love;
This have I done for my true love.
Then was I born of a virgin pure,
Of her I took fleshly substance;
Thus was I knit to man’s nature,
To call my true love to my dance.
Sing, oh! &c.
In a manger laid and wrapp’d I was,
So very poor, this was my chance,
Betwixt an ox and a silly poor ass,
To call my true love to my dance.
Sing, oh! &c.
Then afterwards baptized I was,
The Holy Ghost on me did glance,
My Father’s voice heard from above,
To call my true love to my dance.
Sing, oh! &c.
Into the desert I was led,
Where I fasted without substance;
The Devil bade me make stones my bread,
To have me break my true love’s dance.
Sing, oh! &c.
The Jews on me they made great suit,
And with me made great variance,
Because they lov’d darkness rather than light,
To call my true love to my dance.
Sing, oh! &c.
For thirty pence Judas me sold,
His covetousness for to advance;
Mark whom I kiss, the same do hold,
The same is he shall lead the dance.
Sing, oh! &c.
Before Pilate the Jews me brought,
Where Barabbas had deliverance,
They scourg’d me and set me at nought,
Judged me to die to lead the dance.
Sing, oh! &c.
Then on the cross hanged I was,
Where a spear to my heart did glance,
There issued forth both water and blood,
To call my true love to my dance.
Sing, oh! &c.
Then down to hell I took my way
For my true love’s deliverance,
And rose again on the third day,
Up to my true love and the dance.
Sing, oh! &c.
Then up to Heaven I did ascend.
Where now I dwell in sure substance,
On the right hand of God, that man
May come unto the general dance.
Sing, oh! &c.
XXX.
NOW when Joseph and Mary
Were to Bethlehem bound,
They with travelling were weary,
Yet no lodging they found
In the city of David,
Tho’ they sought o’er all;
They, alas! could not have it,
But in an oxes stall.
The place was no braver
But as mean as might be,
Our Redeemer and Saviour,
The great King of Glory,
Then the sweet Babe of Heaven
Was born there we find,
Whose sweet life was once given
For the sins of mankind.
Whilst the shepherds were feeding
Of their flocks in the fields,
The birth of our Saviour
Unto them was revealed;
Many angels assembling,
In their glory appeared,
Whilst the shepherds were trembling,
Being smitten with fear.
O forbear to be fearful,
We have reason to sing;
Then rejoice and be chearful,
We glad tidings do bring:
There is born in the city
Of David, therefore,
Such a Saviour of pity,
Whom we all do adore.
He’s the Prince of Salvation,
Then be not afraid,
And with this salutation
To the shepherds they said,
Be no longer a stranger,
For in mean swadling clothes
He is laid in a manger;
Then the shepherds arose.
Being resolved together
They to Bethlehem go,
And when they came thither
They found it was so;
They with duty adore him,
Coming where he was laid—
Strait they fell down before him,
This obedience they made.
Nay, the wise men, whose prudence
Had discovered the star,
Came to pay their obedience
When they travell’d from far;
Bringing with them the choicest
That their land did afford,
Of gold, myrrh, and spices,
To present to the Lord.
Their example engages
Every Christian to be,
Ever since in all ages,
Both noble and free;
Then rejoice and be merry,
In a moderate way,
Never, never be weary,
To honour this day.
Which afforded a blessing
To the race of mankind,
Far beyond all expressing
Therefore let us mind;
Whilst on earth he was dwelling,
He was still doing good,
Nay, his love more excelling,
For he shed his own blood.
To redeem us and save us
From the guilt of our sins,
For His love he would have us
A new life to begin;
Then remember the season,
Be you kind to the poor,
It’s no more than is reason,
We have blessings in store.
XXXI.
THIS new Christmas carol, let us cheerfully sing,
To the honor and glory of our Heavenly King;
Who was born of a virgin, blessed Mary by name,
For poor sinners’ redemption, to the world here He came.
The mighty Jehovah, by the prophets foretold,
That the sweet Babe of Heaven mortal eyes should behold;
Both King, Prince, and Prophet, nay, our Saviour beside,
Let His name through all ages be ever glorified.
Now, when Joseph and Mary was espoused, we find,
Having seen her condition, he was grieved in mind;
Aye, and thought to dismiss her, whom he loved so dear,
But an angel from Heaven did her innocence clear.
He declared in a vision, that a Son she should have,
By the Father appointed, fallen mortals to save;
And the same should be called blessed Jesus by name,
From the high court of Heaven this Ambassador came.
Then the righteous man, Joseph, believed the news,
And the sweet Virgin Mary he did no wise refuse;
Thus the blest amongst women, did bear and bring forth
A sweet Prince of Salvation, both in Heaven and Earth.
When the days of her travail did begin to draw nigh,
Righteous Joseph and Mary went immediately
To the city of David, to be taxed indeed,
E’en as Cæsar Augustus had firmly decreed.
Being come to the city, entertainment they crave,
But the inns were so filled they no lodging could have,
For the birth of our Saviour, though he was Prince of all,
He could have there no place but a poor oxes stall.
Now the proud may come hither, and perfectly see,
The most excellent pattern of humility;
For, instead of a cradle, deckt with ornaments gay,
Here, the great King of Glory, in a manger He lay.
As the shepherds were feeding their flocks in the field,
The sweet birth of our Saviour unto them was revealed,
By blest angels of glory, who those tidings did bring,
And directed the shepherds to their heavenly King.
When the wise men discover’d the bright heavenly star,
Then with gold and rich spices, straight they came from afar,
In obedience to worship with a heavenly mind,
Knowing that He was born for the good of mankind.
Let us learn of those sages, who were wise, to obey;
Nay, we find through all ages they have honoured this day,
Ever since our Redeemer’s bless’d nativity,
Who was born of a virgin to set sinners free.
XXXII.
WHEN Cæsar did the sceptre sway,
Of Roman state God’s word did say,
That all the world should out of hand,
Be taxed by his great command.
Noel, noel, we may rejoice
To hear the angel Gabriel’s voice—Noel, noel.
In David’s city, in Bethlehem,
Great store of people thither came,
According to the king’s decree,
In Jury land taxed to be.
Noel, noel, &c.
Then Joseph with his virgin bright,
Came with the rest at that same tide,
And their substance being but small,
Could get in the inn no lodging at all.
Noel, noel, &c.
At length a stable room they had,
In which the virgin was full glad;
And in that stable so forlorn
The world’s Redeemer there was born.
Noel, &c.
No palace nor a costly inn
Was found to put our Saviour in;
No costly robes of silver and gold,
To wrap Him in as reason would.
Noel, &c.
No music nor sweet melody,
But glorious angels from on high,
Declare to shepherds where they lay,
That Jesus Christ was born this day.
Noel, &c.
Thus Jesus Christ, in humble wise,
Appeared thus to human eyes;
Then may we all both more and less
Cast off the bands of wickedness.
Noel, &c.
Let variance, strife, and all debate,
’Twixt neighbours now be out of date,
That peace may spread throughout earth then,
There shall be good will with men.
Noel, &c.
Rejoice, rejoice, in sober wise,
And praise the Lord who rules the skies,
Who for our sakes thought it no scorn
To give command now Christ is born.
Noel, &c.
XXXIII.
SAINT Stephen was an holy man,
Endued with heavenly might,
And many wonders he did work
Before the people’s sight.
And by the blessed Spirit of God,
Which did his heart inflame,
He spared not in every place
To preach Christ Jesus’ name.
O man, do never faint nor fear,
When God the truth shall try,
But mark how Stephen for Christ’s sake
Was willing for to die.
Which doctrine seem’d most wond’rous strange
Among the faithless Jews,
And for the same despitefully
Good Stephen they accused.
Before the elders was he brought
His answer for to make,
But they could not his spirit withstand,
Whereby this man did speak.
O man, &c.
And then false witness did appear,
And looked him in the face,
And said he spake blasphemous words
Against that holy place;
And how he said that Jesus Christ
The temple would destroy,
And change the laws which they so long
From Moses did enjoy.
O man, &c.
Whilst this was told, the multitude
Beholding him aright,
His comely face began to shine
Most like an angel bright.
The high priest then to them did say,
And bid them tell at large,
If this was true, which at that time
They laid unto his charge.
O man, &c.
Then Stephen did put forth his voice,
And he did first unfold
The wond’rous works that God hath wrought,
Even from their fathers old;
That they thereby might plain perceive
Christ Jesus should be he,
That from the burthen of the law
Should save us frank and free.
O man, &c.
But, oh! quoth he, you wicked men,
Which of the prophets all
Did not your fathers persecute
And keep in woeful thrall;
Who told the coming of the just
In prophecies most plain;
Who here amongst you was betray’d
And most unjustly slain?
O man, &c.
But when they heard him so to say,
Their hearts in sunder clave,
And gnashing on him with their teeth,
Like mad men they did rave;
And with a shout most loud and shrill,
Upon him they all ran,
And then without the city gates
They ston’d this holy man.
O man, &c.
Then he most meekly on his knees,
To God did pray at large,
Desiring that He would not lay
This sin unto their charge;
Then yielding up his soul to God,
Who had it dearly bought,
He lost his life, whose body then
To grave was seemly brought.
O man, &c.
XXXIV.
HARK! the herald Angels sing,
Glory to the new-born King;
Peace on earth, and mercy mild,
God and sinner reconcil’d.
Hark! the herald angels sing,
Glory to the new-born King.
Joyfull all ye nations rise,
Join the triumph of the skies,
With the angelic host proclaim,
Christ is born in Bethlehem.
Hark! the herald, &c.
Christ by highest Heaven ador’d,
Christ the everlasting Lord!
Late in time behold Him come,
Offspring of a virgin’s womb.
Hark! the herald, &c.
Hail the heaven-born Prince of Peace!
Hail the Sun of Righteousness!
Light and life to all He brings,
Risen with healing on His wings.
Hark! the herald, &c.
Mild he lays his glory by,
Born that man no more may die,
Born to raise the sons of earth,
Born to give them second birth.
Hark! the herald, &c.
XXXV.
Su l’ar “MA MERE MARIEZ-MOI.”
GUILLÔ, pran ton tamborin;
Toi, pran tai fleùte, Robin.
Au son de cés instruman,
Turelurelu, patapatapan;
Au son de cés instruman
Je diron Noei gaiman.
C’ étó lai môde autrefoi
De loüé le Roi dé Roi,
Au son de cés instruman,
Turelurelu, patapatapan;
Au son de cés instruman,
Ai nos an fan faire autan.
Ce jor le Diale at ai cu,
Randons an graice ai Jésu,
Au son de cés instruman,
Turelurelu, patapatapan,
Au son de cés instruman,
Fezon lai nique ai Satan.
L’homme & Dei son pu d’aicor
Que lai fleùte & le tambor.
Au son de cés instruman,
Turelurelu, patapatapan,
Au son de cés instruman,
Chanton, danson, sautons-an.
XXXVI.
Per le jour des Reys.
_Un Pastou ben de Hiérusalém & dits a sons Coumpaignons._
DE noubélos Efans, en benen de la bilo
E’ bist passá, tres Reys d’uno faysso gentilo,
E’ demandon per tout l’hostalet benazit
Que le Rey d’Israel per palays a cauzit.
Qualqu’un a decelat que porton per estrenos,
Tres Brustietos d’Encens, d’Or, é de Myrro plenos
Que li ban humblomen ufri, digomendiu,
Que confesson deja qu’el es Rey, home, Diu.
Elis parlon sampa de l’Efantet aymable
Que nous aus l’autre jour troubeguen à l’estable,
A qui Peyret dounéc un Aignelet pla fayt,
E’ jou sense reprochi, un picharrou de layt.
Posco dounc oüey metis uno ta bélo troupo
Hurousomen trouba le bél efan de poupo,
Mentre que de nous aus quadun le pregara
De nous salba l’esprit quand le cos mourira.
XXXVII.
TRES Rei de l’Orian
Son conduit per un Astre
Ver lou nouvel Enfan,
Qu’an adoura lei Pastre
Venouen sensen
Creigne auū desastre,
L’Astre avancen
S’arreste en Bethlehem.
S’isten, vount ’ei l’Enfan,
Fixa l’astre admirable,
Intron dessu lou chan,
Trouvon Jesus aimable.
Descouvron qu’ei
Lou sul Dieou veritable,
Qu’es homme, & rei;
Chacun lou recounei.
A ginoux, à sei pé
Entoura de sei pagé
Em’un profond respé,
Liaguen fa seis houmage
Lisfron perlor
Aquelei pious mage
De sei tresor
L’encen, la mirrhe, & l’or.
Fasen nostei presen
A Jesus, qui nous amou,
Oufren li nostei ben,
Nostei cor, nosteis amou.
Enfan tan doux,
Vost’amour nous enflamou,
Nou charma tous;
Voulen ama que vous.
XXXVIII.
Sur un chant joyeux.
QUAND Dieu naquit á Noël
Dedans la Judeé,
On vit ce jour solemnel
La joie inondée;
Se n’etoit ni petit ni grand
Qui n’apportât son presént,
Et n’o, n’o, n’o, n’o,
Et n’offrit, frit, frit,
Et n’o, n’o, & n’offrit,
Et n’offrit sans cesse Toute sa richesse.
L’un apportoit un agneau
Avec un grand zele,
L’autre un peu de lait nouveau
Dedans une écuelle;
Tel, sous ses pauvres habits,
Cachoit un peu de pain bis,
Pour la, la, la, la,
Pour la, sain, sain, sain,
Pour la, la, pour la sain,
Pour la Ste Vierge et Joseph Concierge.
Ce bon Père putatif
De Jesus mon Maitre,
Que le pasteur plus chétif
Desiroit connaitre,
D’un air obligeant & doux,
Recevoit les dons, de tous,
Sans cé, cé, cé, cé,
Sans céré, ré, ré,
Sans cé, cé, sans céré,
Sans cérémoniè, Pour le fruit de vie.
Il ne fut pas jusqu’ aux Rois
Du rivage Maure,
Qui joint au nombre de trois,
Ne vinssent encore;
Ces bons Princes d’Orient.
Offrirent en le priant,
L’en, l’en, l’en, l’en, l’en,
Cens, cens, cens, cens, cens,
L’en, l’en, l’en, cens, cens, cens,
L’encens & la myrrhe et l’or qu’on admire.
Quoiqu’il n’en eût pas besoin,
Jesus notre Maitre,
Il en prit avecque soin
Pour faire connoitre
Qu’il avoit les qualités
Par ces dons représentés,
D’un vrai, vrai, vrai, vrai,
D’un Roi, Roi, Roi, Roi,
D’un vrai, vrai, d’un Roi, Roi,
D’un vrai, Roi de Gloire en qui l’on doit croire.
Plaise à ce divin Enfant
Nous faire la grâce,
Dans son sejour triomphant
D’avoir une place:
Si nous y sommes jamais,
Nous goûterons une paix
De lon, lon, lon, lon,
De gue, gue, gue, gue,
De lon, lon, de gue, gue,
De longue durée dans cet empireé.
XXXIX.
Sur l’air “VER LOU POURTAOU SAN-LAZE.”
LON de la gran carriere,
Ver lou Pourtaou-Limber,
Ay vis pareisse en l’air
Un Ange de lumiere,
Cridavou de per-tout,
Bergié, reveillas-vous.
Ere su ma mounture,
D’abord sieou descendu,
Et m’a dit, beou Moussu,
Ay, la belle aventure,
Es na lou Fis de Dieou,
Toun Mestre amay lou mieou.
Foou quitta ta famille,
Vay-t’en en Bethelem,
Trouvaras l’Inoucen
A cent pas de la ville,
Portou-ye quaouquouren,
Es lougea paouramen.
Ay poursui moun vouyage,
Ay vis veni de gen,
Qu’eroun touteis ensen,
Em’un grand equipage,
Erou trés gran Seignour,
Eme toutou sa cour.
Chascun avié sei Page,
Eme sei Gardou cor,
Me sieou pensa d’abor,
Qu’éroun leis trés Rei Mage,
Que venien adoura
Lou gran Rei nouveou na.
Me sieou més à n’un cayre,
Per lei leissa passa,
Et puis ay demanda
A seis homes d’affayre,
Si van en Bethelem
Veire lou Dieou neissen.
Yá un d’aquelei Garde
Que má brutalisa,
Su lou cham m’a douna
Un bon co d’halabarde:
Si m’espouffesse pa,
Me venié may piqua.
Yeou ay suivi la foulou,
Sen me descouragea,
La doulour m’a passa,
Ou bout d’une miéchourou,
Sieou ana eme lou trin
Jusquo ver lou Douphin.
Avien de dromadairou,
Quantita de charrios,
Et de cameou fort gros,
La suite érou fort bellou,
Jamay yeou n’ay ren vi
Eme tant de plesi.
Un astre lei guidave,
Plus brillan qu’un souleou,
Jamay ren de tant beou,
Tout lou mounde badave:
Lou tem m’a ren dura,
Tant ére esmerveilla.
Aprés dex jour de marche,
L’astre s’es arresta
Sur un lio tout trouca,
Ben plus precioux que l’Arche,
Aqui lou Tout-puissan
Parci coum’un enfan.
XL.
Sur l’ayre, “QUAND JE ME LEVE LE MATIN.”
L’AN mil siés cens quaranto cinc,
Repassen per nostro memorio,
Coussi Jousép en paure trinc
Acoumpaignée le Réy de Glorio,
Quand demourabo dins les réns
De Mario la piucélo préns.
Jousép é Mario maridats
En Béthléhen sén ban amaço,
Nou soun pas fort amounedats.
Més bé soun de Rouyalo raço,
E l’efan és Rey dins les réns,
De Mario la piucélo préns.
Sense gran argen al paquét
N’an pas un trinc de grand parado,
Non menoun que le bourriquét
Dambé le bioou soun camarado,
Diu mentretan és dins les réns,
De Mario la piucélo préns.
Aprép un penible cami
Sant Jousép é la santo méro,
Que nou saben pas oun dourmi,
Ban beilha dins uno feignéro,
Oun l’efan que Diu sort des réns
Nou laysso plus sa méro préns.
Aqui la paillo lour fa liéyt
Sense cousseno ni courtino,
Oun las estelos de la néyt
Bezen ajayre lour Regino,
E’ naysse l’efan de sous réns
Piucélo toutjour é nou préns.
XLI.
J’ANTAN po no ruë,
Passai lé menétrei,
Acouté come ai juë.
Su los hauboi dé noei;
No devan le feù
Po le meù,
Chantons an jeusqu’ai méneù.
An Deçanbre on trezeule,
Dé noei tô lé jor;
Dé chantre fot-an-gueule,
An antone é carrefor;
No devan le feù, &c.
Lé borgei dan lai grainge
Voù grulló le Pòpon,
Chantire ai sai loüainge
Dé noei de tô lé ton;
No devan le feù, &c.
Lé bone jan disire
De noei bé dévo,
Ma quant ai lé chantire,
Ai n’aivein pa lé pié chau;
No devan le feù, &c.
Dans lo froide chambrôte,
Lé none an ce sain moi,
Faute d’autre émusôte,
Chante noei queique foi;
No devan, &c.
Lé prôve laivandeire,
Au son de lo rullô,
An chante ai lai riveire,
Lai téte au van, lé pié mô!
No devan, &c.
Qui montre au feù sé cueùsse
Trepille de chantai,
Qui sòfle dan sé peùce,
Nán di pa noei si gai’;
No devan, &c.
XLII.
I HERE 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 streets, their merry rhymes.
Let us, &c.
Shepherds at the grange,
Where the Babe was born,
Sang with many a change,
Christmas carols until morn.
Let us, &c.
These good people sang,
Songs devout and sweet,
While the rafters rang,
There they stood with freezing feet.
Let us, &c.
Nuns in frigid cells,
At this holy tide,
For want of something else,
Christmas songs at times have tried.
Let us, &c.
Washerwomen old,
To the sound they beat,
Sing by rivers cold,
With uncovered heads and feet.
Let us, &c.
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.
[Illustration]
A Mock Play.
ACT I.—SCENE I.
_Enter_ Alexander.—Alexander _speaks_.
SILENCE, brave gentlemen; if you will give me an eye,
_Alexander_ is my name, I’ll sing the Tragedy;
A ramble here I took, the country for to see,
Three actors here I’ve brought so far from _Italy_;
The first I do present, he is a noble king,
He’s just come from the wars, good tidings he doth bring;
The next that doth come in, he is a docter good,
Had it not been for him, I’d surely lost my blood:
Old _Dives_ is the next, a miser you may see,
Who, by lending of his gold, is come to poverty.
So, gentlemen, you see four actors will go round;
Stand off a little while, more pastime shall be found.
[_Exeunt._
ACT I.—SCENE II.
_Enter_ Actors.
Room, room, brave gallants, give us room to sport,
For in this room we have a mind to resort—
Resort, and to repeat to you our merry rhyme,
For remember, good sirs, this is _Christmas_ time;
The time to cut up goose pies now doth appear,
So we are come to act our merry mirth here:
At the sounding of the trumpet, and beating of the drum,
Make room, brave gentlemen, and let our actors come.
We are the merry actors that traverses the street;
We are the merry actors that fight for our meat;
We are the merry actors that show the pleasant play:
Step in, thou king of _Egypt_, and clear the way.
_King of Egypt._ I am the king of _Egypt_, as plainly doth appear,
And Prince _George_ he is my only son and heir:
Step in, therefore, my son, and act thy part with me,
And shew forth thy praise before the company.
_Prince George._ I am Prince _George_, a champion brave and bold,
For with my spear I’ve won three crowns of gold;
’Twas I that brought the Dragon to the slaughter,
And I that gain’d the _Egyptian_ monarch’s daughter.
In Egypt’s fields I prisoner long was kept,
But by my valour I from them soon ’scap’d:
I sounded at the gates of a divine,
And out came a giant of no good design;
He gave me a blow, which almost struck me dead,
But I up with my sword, and did cut off his head.
_Alexander._ Hold, Stacker, hold, pray do not be so hot,
For on this spot thou knowest not who thou’s got;
’Tis I that’s to hash thee and smash thee as small as flies,
And lend thee to _Satan_ to make minch pies:
Minch pies hot, minch pies cold—
I’ll send thee to Satan ere thou be three days’ old.
But, hold, Prince _George_, before thou go away,
Either thou or I must die this bloody day;
Some mortal wounds thou shalt receive by me,
So let us fight it out most manfully.
[_Exeunt._
ACT II.—SCENE I.
Alexander _and_ Prince George _fight_: _the latter is wounded, and
falls_.
King of Egypt _speaks_.
Curs’d Christian, what is this thou hast done?
Thou hast ruin’d me by killing my best son.
_Alex._ He gave me a challenge—why should I him deny?
How high he was, but see how low he lies!
_K. of Egypt._ O Sambo! Sambo! help me now,
For I never was in more need;
For thou to stand with sword in hand,
And to fight at my command.
_Doct._ Yes, my liege, I will thee obey,
And by my sword I hope to win the day:
Yonder stands he who has kill’d my master’s son;
I’ll see if he be sprung from royal blood,
And through his body make an ocean flood.
Gentleman, you see my sword-point is broke,
Or else I’d run it down that villain’s throat.
_K. of Egypt._ Is there never a doctor to be found,
That can cure my son of his deadly wound?
_Doct._ Yes, there is a doctor to be found,
That can cure your son of his deadly wound.
_K. of Egypt._ What diseases can he cure?
_Doct._ All diseases, both within and without,
Especially the itch, ...., palsy, and the gout;
Come in, you ugly, nasty, dirty....,
Whose age is threescore years or more,
Whose nose and face stands all awry,
I’ll make her very fitting to pass by.
I’ll give a coward a heart, if he be willing,
Will make him stand without fear of killing.
And any man that’s got a scolding spouse,
That wearies him with living in his house,
I’ll ease him of his complaint, and make her civil,
Or else will send her headlong to the devil.
Ribs, legs, or arms, when any’s broke, I’m sure
I presently of them will make a cure;
Nay, more than this by far, I will maintain,
If you should break your neck, I’ll cur’t again.
So here’s a doctor rare, who travels much at home,
Here take my pills, I cure all ills, past, present, and to come:
I in my time many thousands have directed,
And likewise have as many more dissected.
To cure the love-sick maid, like me there’s none,
For with two of my pills the job I’ve done;
I take her home, and rubs her o’er and o’er,
Then if she dies ne’er believe me more.
To cure your son, good sir, I do fear not,
With this small bottle, which by me I’ve got.
The balsam is the best which it contains,
Rise up, my good Prince _George_, and fight again.
[_Exeunt._
ACT II.—SCENE II.
Prince George _arises_.—Prince George _speaks_.
O, horrible! terrible! the like was never seen—
A man drove out of seven senses into fifteen;
And out of fifteen into fourscore!
O, horrible! terrible! the like was ne’er before.
_Alex._ Thou silly ass, that lives by grass, dost thou abuse a stranger.
I live in hopes to buy new ropes, and tie thy nose to the manger.
_Pr. Geo._ Sir, unto you I bend.
_Alex._ Stand off, thou slave, I think thee not my friend.
_Pr. Geo._ A slave, sir! that is for me by far too base a name,
That word deserves to stab thy honour’s fame.
_Alex._ To be stab’d, sir, is the least of all my care,
Appoint your time and place, I’ll meet you there.
_Pr. Geo._ I’ll cross the water at the hour of five.
_Alex._ I’ll meet you there, sir, if I be alive.
_Pr. Geo._ But stop, sir,—I’d wish you to a wife, both lusty and young,
She can talk both _Dutch_, _French_, and the _Italian_ tongue.
_Alex._ I’ll have none such.
_Pr. Geo._ Why, don’t you love your learning?
_Alex._ Yes, I love my learning as I do my life,
I love a learned scholar, but not a learned wife,
Stand off, had I as many hussians, shusians, chairs, and stools,
As you have had sweethearts, boys, girls, and fools;
I love a woman, and a woman loves me,
And when I want a fool I’ll send for thee.
_K. of Egypt._ Sir, to express thy beauty, I am not able,
For thy face shines like a very kitchen table;
Thy teeth are no whiter than the charcoal,
And thy breath stinks like the.......!
_Alex._ Stand off, thou dirty dog, for by my sword thou’s die,
I’ll make thy body full of holes, and cause thy buttons flie.
[_Exeunt._
ACT. III.—SCENE I.
King of Egypt _fights_, _and is killed_.
_Enter_ Prince George.
Oh! what is here? Oh! what is to be done?
Our king is slain, the crown is likewise gone;
Take up the body, bear it hence away,
For in this place no longer shall it stay.
The CONCLUSION.
Bounser Buckler, velvet’s dear,
And _Christmas_ comes but once a year,
Though when it comes, it brings good cheer,
But farewell _Christmas_ once a year.
Farewell, farewell, adieu! friendship and unity,
I hope we have made sport, and pleas’d the company;
But, gentlemen, you see, we’re but young actors four,
We’ve done the best we can, and the best can do no more.
[Illustration]
Christmas Play of St. George and the Dragon.
AS REPRESENTED IN THE WEST OF ENGLAND.
_Enter_ Father Christmas.
HERE come I, old Father Christmas,
Welcome, or welcome not,
I hope old Father Christmas
Will never be forgot.
I am not come here for to laugh or to jeer,
But for a pocketfull of money, and a skinfull of beer;
To show some sport and pastime,
Gentlemen and ladies in the Christmas time.
If you will not believe what I do say,
Come in the Turkish Knight—clear the way.
_Enter the_ Turkish Knight.
Open your doors, and let me in,
I hope your favors I shall win;
Whether I rise, or whether I fall,
I’ll do my best to please you all.
St. George is here, and swears he will come in,
And if he does, I know he’ll pierce my skin.
If you will not believe what I do say,
Come in the King of Egypt—clear the way.
_Enter the_ King of Egypt.
Here I, the King of Egypt, boldly do appear,
St. George, St. George, walk in, my son and heir.
Walk in, my son St. George, and boldly act thy part,
That all the people here may see thy wondrous art.
_Enter_ Saint George.
Here come I, St. George, from Britain did I spring,
I’ll fight the Dragon bold, my wonders to begin.
I’ll clip his wings, he shall not fly;
I’ll cut him down, or else I die.
_Enter the_ Dragon.
Who’s he that seeks the Dragon’s blood,
And calls so angry, and so loud?
That English dog, will he before me stand?
I’ll cut him down with my courageous hand.
With my long teeth, and scurvy jaw,
Of such I’d break up half a score,
And stay my stomach, till I’d more.
[St. George _and the_ Dragon _fight_: _the latter is killed_.]
Father Christmas.
Is there a doctor to be found
All ready, near at hand,
To cure a deep and deadly wound,
And make the champion stand?
_Enter_ Doctor.
Oh! yes, there is a doctor to be found
All ready, near at hand.
To cure a deep and deadly wound,
And make the champion stand.
_Fa. Chr._ What can you cure?
_Doct._ All sorts of diseases,
Whatever you pleases,
The phthisic, the palsy, and the gout;
Whatever disorder, I’ll soon pull him out.
_Fa. Chr._ What is your fee?
_Doct._ Fifteen pounds, it is my fee,
The money to lay down;
But as ’tis such a rogue as he,
I’ll cure him for ten pound.
I have a little bottle of Elicumpane,
Here, Jack, take a little of my flip-flop,
Pour it down thy tip-top:
Rise up, and fight again.
[The Doctor _gives his medicine_: St. George _and the_ Dragon _again
fight, and the latter is again killed_.]
St. George.
Here am I, St. George, that worthy champion bold,
And with my sword and spear I’ve won three crowns of gold:
I fought the fiery dragon, and brought him to the slaughter;
By that I’ve won fair Sabra, the King of Egypt’s daughter.
_The_ Turkish Knight _advances_.
Here come I, the Turkish Knight,
Come from the Turkish land to fight.
I’ll fight St. George, who is my foe,
I’ll make him yield before I go:
He brags to such a high degree,
He thinks there’s none can do the like of he.
St. George.
Where is the Turk that will before me stand?
I’ll cut him down with my courageous hand.
[_They fight:_ the Knight _is overcome, and falls on one knee, saying_—
Oh! pardon me, St. George, pardon of thee I crave,
Oh! pardon me this night, and I will be thy slave.
St. George.
I’ll never pardon a Turkish Knight;
So rise thee up again, and try thy might.
[_They fight again, when the_ Knight _is killed, and a
scene with_ Father Christmas _and the_ Doctor _occurs
as before, and the_ Knight _is cured. The_ Doctor
_then, according to the stage direction, has a basin of
girdy grout given him, and a kick, and is driven out.
Sometimes the_ Giant Turpin _is introduced, but his part
is little more than a repetition of the_ Turkish Knight.
_If there is a fair_ Sabra, _she is generally a mute,
and now comes forward to_ Saint George.]
Father Christmas.
Now ladies and gentlemen, your sport is just ended,
So prepare for the box, which is highly commended.
The box it would speak, if it had but a tongue:
Come, throw in your money, and think it no wrong.
[Illustration]
INDEX TO CAROLS.
I had hoped to have inserted a Carol by the Rev. R. S.
Hawker, of Moorwenstow, Cornwall, but it was previously
engaged for the Christmas number of ‘Household Words.’
I must, however, take the opportunity of correcting a
mistake in ‘Trenoodle’s Specimens of Cornish Dialect,’
where the song of ‘The Trelawney Rising’ is treated as an
old ballad. This spirited composition is the production of
Mr. Hawker.
No. PAGE
1. Seignors, ore entendez à nus 215
From Douce’s Illustration of Shakespeare
(MS. Reg. 16, E viii, 13th century).
2. Lordings, from a distant home 217
Translation of the same, from Douce’s Illustrations.
3. Welcū ȝole in good array 218
Douce MS., 302. 15th century.
4. Holy stond in þe hall fayre to behold 219
Harln. MS., 5396. Temp. Hen. 6.
5. Now ys Crystemas y-cum 220
Wright’s Carols (Harln. MS., 541. Temp. Hen. 7.)
6. The borys hede, that we bryng here 223
7. I am here, syre Cristsmasse 224
Both from Additional MS., 5665. Temp. Hen. 8.
8. A bonne God wote! 224
Wright’s Carols, Cotton. MS., Vespasian, A, xxv.
9. A Babe is born al of a may 226
The same, Sloane MS., 2593.
10. The fyrst day of ȝole have we in mynd 227
11. Blyssid be that lady bryght 228
Both from Wright’s Songs and Carols.
12. Hey, hey, hey, hey, the borrys hede is armyd gay 230
Wright’s Carols.
13. The bore’s heed in hand bring I 231
Ritson’s Ancient Songs.
14. In Betheleem, that noble place 232
Bibliographical Miscellanies (Kele’s Christmas
Carolles.)
15. All you that in this house be here 233
Wright’s Carols (New Carols, 1661).
16. Remember, O thou man, O thou man! 235
Melismata, 1611.
17. Jesus Christ of Nazareth 237
Translated from Hoffman’s Horæ Belgicæ, part 2,
p. 16.
18. What is that which is but one? 238
19. Joseph was an old man, and an old man was he 241
20. A child this day is born 242
21. As I passed by a river side 246
22. As it fell out one May morning 251
23. A Virgin most pure, as the prophets do tell 254
24. God rest you, merry gentlemen 256
25. God’s dear Son without beginning 258
26. I saw three ships come sailing in 260
27. The first nowell the angel did say 261
28. The Lord at first had Adam made 263
29. To-morrow shall be my dancing day 266
30. Now when Joseph and Mary 268
31. This new Christmas Carol, ‘Let us cheerfully sing’ 271
32. When Cæsar did the sceptre sway 273
33. Saint Stephen was a holy man 275
34. Hark! the herald angels sing 278
This and the sixteen preceding are from manuscript
copies, several of which are also printed as
broadsides.
35. Guillô pran ton tamborin 279
Noei Bourgignon.
36. De noubélos Efans en benen de la bilo 280
Recueil de Poetes Gascons, 1700.
37. Tres Rei de l’Orian 281
Nouveaux Cantiques Spirituels Provençaux, 1750.
38. Quand Dieu naquit a Noel 282
Noels Vieux & Nouveaux.
39. Lon de la gran carriere 284
Recueil de Noels Provençaux, 1791.
40. L’An mil sies cens quaranto cinc 287
Recueil de Poetes Gascons.
41. J’antan po no ruë 288
Noei Bourgignon.
42. I hear along the street 290
Translation of No. 41, by Longfellow.
Christmas Play of Alexander 292
The like of St. George 298
INDEX TO PRINCIPAL MATTERS.
PAGE
Ale Christmas, account of 35
Boar’s head and brawn 30, 32
Boy Bishop, referred to 80
Carol singing 173
Carols, list of 207
Carol, Merry, tale of 185
Carol, Cherry Tree, account of 200
Carol singing in France 192
Christmas block 113
Christmas boxes 149
Christmas plays 153
Christmas tree 151
Cross, account of 204
Epiphany, offerings on 37, 42, 55
Evergreens, practice of decorating with 11, 127
Feasts of fools and asses 13
Fools, domestic, referred to 124
Gray’s Inn, Christmas feast 93
Gray’s Inn, Serjeant Roe’s play at 76
Inns of Court, revels 73
King of the bean 39, 42, 164, 166
Lord of Misrule 60, 86, 91, 121-2
Minced pies 138
Misletoe 12
Mysteries and miracle plays 48
New year’s gifts 37, 39, 42, 47, 59, 78, 90, 99, 110,
123, 133, 143
Noël, description of term 190
Pageants, revels, and mummings 40, 44, 48, 65-70, 86, 106
Pantomime, Christmas 152
Star-song 171
Temple Christmas feasts 92, 122
Thirty pieces of silver, legend of 169
Three Kings, history of 159
Turkeys at Christmas 112
Twelfth cake 166
Twelfth Night—Epiphany 164
Twelfth Night at sea 132
Waits 83, 96, 116
Wassail bowl 18, 55
Yule, explanation of 5
INDEX OF REFERENCES.
_To avoid encumbering the pages with foot-notes, all
references requiring them have been omitted, but the
principal works and passages referred to will be found in
this Index, excepting those that already appear in the
body of the work._
Many of the old Chronicles have been inspected for historical facts,
but it has not been thought necessary to specify them, except in a few
instances; and where one is cited, the fact is frequently corroborated
by two or three others. Hickes’s ‘Thesaurus,’ vol. i, pp. 209-14, and
Gebelin’s ‘Allegories Orientales,’ contain a good deal of learning
about Yule or Gule, and the former as to midwinter. Du Cange’s
‘Glossary,’ in voce Festum, gives many particulars respecting the
Feasts of Asses and Fools. The Wardrobe Accounts, temp. Edw. First,
have entries connected with that time; and Mr. Collier’s ‘Annals of the
Stage, and History of Dramatic Poetry,’ and the ‘Account of Revels,’ by
Mr. Peter Cunningham, both works containing much valuable information,
the Privy Purse Expenses of Elizabeth of York, of Henry the Eighth,
and of the Princess Mary, the ‘Northumberland Household Book,’ and
Nichols’s ‘Progresses of Queen Elizabeth and King James,’ are the
authorities for many of the plays and masks, and the particulars of the
accounts connected with them, and the New Year’s Gifts from the time
of Henry the Seventh to that of James the First; and many additional
particulars may be found in them. Brady’s ‘Clavis Calendaria’ contains
much information respecting the early history of Christmas; and
Mosheim’s ‘Ecclesiastical History,’ may also be consulted. Spelman’s
‘Glossary,’ voce Xenia, and Boulanger, ‘l’Antiquité Devoilée,’ iv, 16,
17, a work however not to be recommended, speak of the ancient New
Year’s Gifts. Madox’s ‘History of the Exchequor’ states the movements
of our early monarchs, mentioning for a long series of years where
they kept their Christmasses; and Turner’s, Henry’s, and Lingard’s
‘Histories of England,’ and the ‘Pictorial History,’ may be referred
to also, by those wishing to look further into the subject. Many facts
taken from these books do not appear to require more than this general
reference to them.
PAGE LINE
3 29 Nehemiah, viii, 10.
15 31 Rabelais, vol. i, 478, _n._ ed. 1823.
20 22 Lingard’s Hist. Eng. ed. 1837, vol. i, 259.
21 22 John of Bromton. Twysden, X Scriptores.
25 26 Archæologia, vol. xi, 13 (from Wilkins’s Concil.).
27 26 Blount, Fragmenta Antiq., by Beckwith, 50.
30 13, 21 Madox’s Hist. Exchequer, 258.
33 13 The Woman’s Prize, Fletcher, iv, 2.
34 9 Hamlet i, 1.
36 18, 29 Baker’s Chronicle, 82, 83.
37 31 Théâtre Français au moyen Age, 1842, p. 118.
38 20 Cronica Jocelini de Brakelonda, 46.
39 21 Archæologia, xxvi, 342.
40 24, 30 Archæologia, xxxi, 37, 38, 43, 122.
42 9 Cotton MS. Nero, C. viii.
— 15 Petitôt Mémoires, 1st Ser. vi, 66.
— 22 Monstrelet, ed. 1840, i, 153.
44 11 Warton, Hist. of Poetry, 8vo, ii, 71, 72.
45 — Henry V, i, 1.
46 24 Archæologia, xxi, 66. Old Poem on Siege of Rouen.
— 31 Petitôt Mémoires, 1st Ser. viii, 35.
47 26, 31 Excerpta Historica, 148, 150.—(Cotton MS. Cleopatra,
F. iv.)
— 28 Proceedings of Privy Council, iii, 285.
48 4 Fairholt’s History of Costume.—(Harl. MS. 2278.)
— 11 Proceedings of Privy Council, v, 114.
— 14 Rymer’s Fœdera, x, 387.
— 30 Collier, Hist. Dram. Poetry, ii, 127.
50 17 King John, ii, 1.
51 28 Harl. MS. 5931.
52 3 Fabliaux et Contes du xii et xiii siècles, i, 329, &c.
54 29 Additional MS. 6113.
55 25 Antiquarian Repertory, i, 328.
56 4 Hamlet, i, 4.
— 7 Love’s Labour Lost, v, 2.
57 31 Ritson’s Ancient Songs, 304. (From New Christmas Carols.)
58 15 Midsummer Night’s Dream, ii, 1.
— 24 Herrick’s Works, ii, 92.
59 25 Ordinances of Royal Household, 120.
61 14 Archæologia, xxv, 319-27.
66 6 Hall’s, Holinshed’s, and Baker’s Chronicles may be
consulted for this and most of the Christmas revels
in the time of Henry VIII; also Collier’s Annals of
the Stage, for many particulars of payments and
gifts.
72 29 Henry VIII, i, 4.
76 18 Hall’s Chronicle.
78 14 Ellis’s Original Letters, i, 271.—(Cotton MS. Vespasian,
F. xiii.)
79 16 Cotton MS. Appendix, xxviii.
80 27 Strutt’s Sports, &c. 305.
81 8 Archæologia, xxv, 422.
82 4 Leland’s Itinerary, iv, 182.
83 7 Camden’s Remains, 262.
— 18 Archaeological Journal, No. 4, 367.
— 24 Kalendars of the Exchequer, i, 269.
89 10 Particulars of George Ferrer’s Misrule will be found in
Stow’s Annals, Baker’s Chronicle, Loseley MS. 45,
&c. and Machyn’s Diary, 13, &c.
90 10 Loseley MS. 90.
91 17 Machyn’s Diary, 162.
92 4 Machyn’s Diary, 222.
93 19 Dugdale Origines Jurid.
— 24 Account of Revels, 28.
95 — See Collier, i, 196, &c., for this page.
96 13 Lansdowne MS. 71.
— 22 Ben Jonson’s Conversations with Drummond, 23.
102 — See Archæologia, i, 9; Ditto, xix, 292; Nichols’s
Progresses; Sloane MS. 4827; Ditto, 814, Additional
MS. 5751;—for particulars of New Year’s Gifts in
this and preceding pages.
103 6 Account of Revels, 204
108 12, 22 Pictorial History of England, iii, 88.
110 25 Nichols’s Progresses, i, xl, _n._
— 30 Account of Revels, xi.
111 30 Lansdowne MS. 92.
112 26 Doblado’s Letters.
113 17 Introduction to Canto 6, Marmion.
— 28 Romeo and Juliet, i, 4.
115 6 Horace, lib. i, od. 9.
— 19 Michaelmas Term, ii, 3.
— 23 Promptorium Parvulorum, 238.
116 2 Johnes’s Translation, vol. iii, c. 7.
— 16 Herrick’s Works, ii, 124.
— 30 Witty Fair One, iv, 2.
118 27 Nichols’s Illustrations of Manners and Expenses, 53.
121 25 Archæologia, xviii, 335.
122 6 Curiosities of Literature, iii, 269.
124 6 Hone’s Every Day Book, i, 9. (Banquet of Jests, 1634.)
125 29 Petitôt Mémoires, 47, 101.
136 17 Percy’s Reliques, ed. 1840, 169.
— 28 Evans’s Ballads, iii, 262.
137 15 Evans’s Ballads, i, 146.
138 15 City Madam, ii, 1.
144 23 Roper’s Life of Sir T. More, 73.
146 17 Cowley’s Anaercontiques, No. 2.
147 9 Wine and Walnuts, ii, 157.
— 30 New Year’s Day, by Hartley Coleridge.
149 30 Brady Clavis Calendaria, ii, 316, 17.
154 20 In Wily Beguiled.
155 22 Collier’s Annals of the Stage, i, 22.
157 18 Malcontent, by Marston, iv, 2.
158 — Dr. Macculloch’s Proofs and Illustrations of the
Attributes of God, i, 358, a work of remarkable
learning and information joined to sincere and
unaffected piety—the production of a gifted and
accomplished man, whose death will ever be
regretted by those who, in his lifetime, enjoyed
his friendship.
160 25 Milton’s Ode on the Nativity.
161 25 Sandys’s Travels, 141.
162 12 Harl. MSS. 437, 619.
— 16 Apocryphal New Testament, 2, 3.—Infancy, iii, 2.
— 29 Burton’s Anatomy of Melancholy, 1638, 225.
163 16 Diary of Philip Henslowe, 70.
— 22, 28 Hone’s Every Day Book, i, 46.
165 16 Fabliaux et Contes, par Barbazan et Meon, ii, 285.
— 18 Strutt’s Sports and Pastimes, 8vo, 344.
166 12 Archives Curieuses de l’Histoire de France, 2 Series, v,
392.
168 13 Warton’s History of Poetry, 8vo, ii, 91 _n._
— 16 Harl. MS. 5931.
170 9 French Mystery of the 15th Century, ‘Le Geu des trois
Rois.’
171 13 MS. Bibl. Reg. 5 F. xiv, 7. Ib. 18 A, x, 8. Harl. MS.
1704-11.
— 14 Harl. MS. 2407, 13.
178 24 This reference should be ‘Popular Rhymes and Nursery
Tales.’
179 12 Barzaz-Breiz, Chants Populaires de la Bretagne, i, 1, 25.
180 2 Description of Patent Rolls, by T. D. Hardy, 129.
183 6 Privy Purse Expenses of Princess Mary, Introduction,
xxvii.
— 7 Privy Purse Expenses of Elizabeth of York, 83.
184 25 Barnaby Googe, translation of Naogeorgus.
185 11 Pictorial History of England, iii, 446 (address by Mr.
John Davison to General Assembly in Scotland,
1596).
186 25 Old Ballads, 1723, p. 69.
188 11 Batt upon Batt, 1711, p. 6.
191 6 Bibliothèque de l’Ecole des Chartes, i, 250.
— 20 Rabelais, vi, 209, _n._ (liv. 4, c. 22).
— 26 Pasquier les Recherches de la France, 383-4.
— 30 Ménage Diction. Etymol., voce Noël.
192 3 Archæologia, 22.
— 17 Fabliaux et Contes, iv, 80, 99.
194 1 Laborde’s Essai, i, 118, _n._
200 27 Notes and Queries, v, 7, communication by Mr. Thoms.
203 8 Introduction to Scotch songs, i, 104.
206 2 See French mystery of fifteenth century, La Nativité,
edited by Jubinal, ii, 19, Cornish play of Creation
of the World, and poem of Mount Calvary, for
further particulars.
— 26 Horne’s introduction to the Scriptures, i, 629.
213 2 Maccabees, 15, 38.
Music to Carols.
[Illustration]
A VIRGIN MOST PURE.
[Illustration: Music]
[Illustration: Music]
A CHILD THIS DAY IS BORN.
[Illustration: Music]
THE LORD AT FIRST HAD ADAM MADE.
[Illustration: Music]
[Illustration: Music]
THE FIRST NOWELL.
[Illustration: Music]
THIS NEW CHRISTMAS CAROL.
[Illustration: Music]
GOD REST YOU, MERRY GENTLEMEN.
[Illustration: Music]
SAINT STEPHEN.
[Illustration: Music]
[Illustration: Music]
GOD’S DEAR SON.
[Illustration: Music]
TO-MORROW SHALL BE MY DANCING DAY.
[Illustration: Music]
I SAW THREE SHIPS.
[Illustration: Music]
JOSEPH WAS AN OLD MAN.
[Illustration: Music]
IN THOSE TWELVE DAYS.
[Illustration: Music]
E. TUCKER, PRINTER, PERRYS PLACE, OXFORD STREET.
* * * * *
Transcriber’s Notes:
Obvious punctuation errors repaired. Unconventional spelling was
retained especially in quotations of older texts, expect much variation
as in “tres,” “très,” and “trés.”
Table of Contents, Music, “226” changed to “326” for (Joseph was an old
man)
Page 124, “boomarang” changed to “boomerang” (boomerang, on their own)
Page 205, “crucifixon” changed to “crucifixion” (time of the
crucifixion)
Page 254, “trangression” changed to “transgression” (Which Adam’s
transgression)
Page 304, “noubelos” changed to “noubélos” to match usage in text (36.
De noubélos Efans)