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Carol 1
Good people all, this Christmas time,
remember well and keep in mind
what our good God for us has done
in sending His beloved son.
With Mary holy we should pray
to God with love this Christmas Day;
In Bethlehem upon that morn
there was a blessed Messiah born.
The night before that happy tide,
the noble virgin and her guide
were long time seeking up and down
to find a lodging in the town.
But mark how all things came to pass;
From every door repelled, alas!
As long foretold their refuge all
was but a humble ox’s stall.
Near Bethlehem did shepherds keep
their flocks of lambs and feeding sheep,
To whom God’s angels did appear,
Which put the shepherds in great fear.
“Prepare and go,” the angels said,
“To Bethlehem, be not afraid;
For there you’ll find this happy morn,
a princely babe, sweet Jesus born.”
With thankful heart and joyful mind,
the shepherds went the babe to find,
and as God’s angels had foretold,
They did our Savior Christ behold.
Within a manger He was laid,
and by his side, the virgin maid,
Attending on the Lord of life,
Who came to earth to end all strife.
Carol 2
Now Christmas Day is coming,
let all prepare for mirth,
Which fills the heav’ns and earth
at this amazing birth,
Through both the joyous angels
in strife and hurry fly,
With glory and hosannas,
“All Holy” do they cry.
In heav’n the Church triumphant
adores with all her choirs
the militant on earth
with humble faith admires.
Is there no sumptuous palace
nor any inn at all
to lodge his heav’nly mother,
but in a stable stall?
Oh, cease, ye blessed angels,
such clam’rous joy to make.
Though midnight silence favors,
the shepherds are awake,
And you, O glorious star,
that with new splendor brings,
From far and distant countries,
three learned eastern kings.
Turn somewhere else your lustre,
your rays elsewhere display,
For Herod he may slay,
and Christ must straight away.
If we would then rejoice,
let’s cancel the old score,
And purposing amendment,
resolve to sin no more,
for mirth can ne’er content us,
without a conscience clear,
and thus we’ll find pleasure
in all the usual cheer,
dancing, sporting, rev’lling
with masquerade and drum,
so be our Christmas merry,
as for us doth become.
Balulalow
O my dear heart, young Jesus sweet,
prepare thy cradle in thy spreit,
and I shall rock thee in my heart
and nevermore from thee depart.
I shall praise thee, evermore,
with sanges sweet, unto thy gloir,
the knees of my heart, shall I bow,
and sing to thee forevermore.
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