French traditional carol harm: André Bellefeuille

D’où viens-tu bergère, D’où viens-tu?
D’où viens-tu bergère, D’où viens-tu?
Je viens de l’étable de m’y promener
J’ai vu un miracle ce soir arrivé.

Qu’as-tu vu bergère. Qu’as-tu vu?
Qu’as-tu vu bergère. Qu’as-tu vu?
J’ai vu dans la crèche un petit enfant,
Sur la paille fraiche, mis bien tendrement.

17^th century French carol

Dans cette étable, que Jésus est charmant,
Qu’il est aimable dans son abaissement.
Que d’attraits a la fois ! Non, les palais des rois
N’ont rien de comparable aux beautés que je vois
Dans cette étable.

Que sa puissance paraît bien en ce jour,
Malgré l’enfance de ce Dieu plein d’amour!
L’esclave racheté et tout l’enfer dompté
Font voir qu’à sa naissance rien n’est si redouté
Que sa puissance.

S’il est sensible, ce n’est qu’à nos malheurs;
Le froid horrible ne cause point ses pleurs.
Après tant de bienfaits, notre coeur, aux attraits
D’un amour si visible, se rendra désormais,
S’il est sensible.

Heureux mystère! Jésus souffrant pour nous,
D’un Dieu sévère apaise le courroux.
Pour sauver le pécheur, il naît dans la douleur,
Et sa bonté de père éclipse sa grandeur.
Heureux mystère!

Catalan traditional carol arr: Père Jorda

Sant Josep i la Mare de Deu
Feren companyia bona
Partiren de Nazareth
Matinet a la bona hora.
Dondorondon
La Mare canta i el fillet dorm.

Fan a peu tot el cami
Reposant hi alguna estona
Quan arriben a Betlem
Ja tot om tanca les portes.
Dondorondon
la Mare canta i el fillet dorm.

Herbert Howells
20th century melody; 14th century words

A spotless Rose is blowing, sprung from a tender root
Of ancient seers’ foreshowing, of Jesse promised fruit.
Its fairest bud unfolds to light amid the cold, cold winter,
And in the dark midnight.

The Rose which I am singing, whereof Isaiah said
Is from its sweet root springing in Mary, purest maid.
For through our God’s great love and might
The blessed Babe she bare us in a cold, cold winter’s night.

A spotless Rose is blowing, sprung from a tender root
Of ancient seers’ foreshowing, of Jesse promised fruit.
Its fairest bud unfolds to light amid the cold, cold winter,
And in the dark midnight.

English traditional carol arr: Sir David Willcocks

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! (x2)

From God our heav’nly Father a blessed angel came
And unto certain shepherds brought tidings of the same
How that in Bethlehem was born the Son of God by name:
O tidings of comfort and joy! (x2)

The shepherds at those tidings rejoiced much in mind
And left their flocks a-feeding in tempest storm and wind
And went to Bethlehem straightaway this blessed babe to find:
O tidings of comfort and joy! (x2)

But when to Bethlehem they came whereat this infant lay
They found him in a manger where oxen feed on hay
His mother Mary, kneeling, unto the Lord did pray:
O tidings of comfort and joy! (x2)

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 of comfort and joy! (x2)

16^th century Spanish villancico

Estribillo (chorus):
Riu, riu, chiu, la garda ribera
Dios guardo el lobo de nuestra cordera
Dios guardo el lobo de nuestra cordera

El lobo rabioso, la quiso morder
Mas Dios poderoso la supo defender;
Quisole hazer que no pudiesse pecar
Ni aun original esta Virgen no tuviera.
Estribillo

Este qu’es nacido es el gran monarca
Christo patriarca de carne vestido;
Hanos radimido con se hazer chiquito:
Aunqu’era infinito, finito se hiziera.
Estribillo

Muchas profeçias lo han profetizado;
Y aun en nuestros dias lo hemos alcançado.
A Dios humanado vemos en el suelo
Y al hombre en el cielo porque el le quisiera.
Estribillo

Yo vi mil garçones que andavan cantando
Por aqui bolando haziendo mil sones,
Diziendo a gascones: “Gloria sea en el çielo
Y paz en el suelo, pues Jesus nasçiera.”
Estribillo

Este viene a dar a los muertos vida
Y viene a reparar de todos la caida.
Es la Luz del Dia Aqueste moçuelo
Este es el Cordero que San Juan dixera.
Estribillo

Mira bien que os quadre, que ansina looyera:
Que Dios no pudiera Hasxerla mas que madre;
El que era su Padre oy della nasçio
Y el que la crio su hijo se dixera.
Estribillo

Pues que ya tenemos lo que desseamos,
Todos juntos vamos, resentes llevemos;
Todos le daremos nuestra voluntad,
Pues a se igualar con el hombre viniera.
Estribillo

English traditional carol arr: Charles Wood

Chorus:
Past three a clock and a cold and frosty morning
Past three a clock, Good morrow, masters all!

Born is a baby, Gentle as may be,
Son of th’ eternal Father supernal.

Welsh traditional carol

Deck the halls with boughs of holly, Fa la la…
‘Tis the season to be jolly, Fa la la….
Don we now our gay apparel, Fa la la….
Troll the ancient Yuletide carol, Fa la la….

See the blazing Yule before us, Fa la la….
Strike the harp and join the chorus, Fa la la….
Follow me in merry measure, Fa la la….
While I tell of Yuletide treasure, Fa la la….

Fast away the old year passes, Fa la la….
Hail the new, ye lads and lasses, Fa la la….
Sing we joyous all together, Fa la la….
Heedless of the wind and weather, Fa la la….

14th century traditional carol arr: A. Parker/R. Shaw

Good King Wenceslas looked out on the feast of Stephen.
When the snow lay round about, deep and crisp and even.
Brightly shone the moon that night, though the frost was cruel.
When a poor man came in sight, Gath’ring winter fuel.

‘Hither, page, and stand by me, if thou know’st it, telling.
Yonder peasant, who is he? Where and what his dwelling?’
‘Sire, he lives a good league hence, underneath the mountain,
Right against the forest fence by Saint Agnes’ fountain.’

‘Bring me flesh and bring me wine, bring me pine logs hither.
Thou and I will see him dine when we bear them thither.‘
Page and monarch, forth they went, forth they went together
Through the rude wind’s wild lament and the bitter weather.

‘Sire, the night is darker now, and the wind blows stronger.
Fails my heart, I know not how; I can go no longer.’
‘Mark my footsteps, good my page, tread now in them boldly:
Thou shalt find the winter’s rage freeze thy blood less coldly.’

In his master’s steps he trod, where the snow lay dinted.
Heat was in the very sod which the saint had printed.
Therefore, Christian men be sure, wealth or rank possessing
Ye who now will bless the poor, shall yourselves find blessing!

Philip Radcliffe

Mary walked through a wood of thorn ,
Kyrie eleison.
Mary walked through a wood of thorn,
Which seven long years no leaf had borne;
Jesus and Mary.

What bore Mary beneath her heart?
Kyrie eleison.
A little child without any smart
Mary bore beneath her heart,
Jesus and Mary.

Then roses sprang from out the thorn;
Kyrie eleison.
As the Christ child through the wood was born,
Roses sprang from out the thorn;
Jesus and Mary.

Words and melody from the Selden M.S. Bodleian Library, Oxford

Chorus:
As I lay upon a night,
For sooth I saw a seemly sight
I beheld a bird so bright,
A child she bare upon her knee.

Her looking was so lovely,
Her semblance was so sweet;
Of all my care and sorrow
She may my balys beat.
Chorus

All by her sat a guardian,
That said all in his saw,
He seemed by his semblance
A man of the old Law.
Chorus

‘Thou wondrest,’ he said solemly ‘
At what thou dost behold,
And so y-wis did I truly;
Til tales were to me told.’
Chorus

Brian Chapple 20th century melody, 14th century words

Jesu swete, sone dear
On poorful bed liest thou here
And that me grieveth sore
For thy cradle is as a bere
Ox and asse be thy fere
Weep I may therefore.

Jesu swete, be not wroth
Though I n’ave clout ne cloth
Thee on for to folde ne to wrap
For I n’ave clout ne lap
But lay thy feet to my pap
And wite thee from the cold,
And wite thee from the cold.