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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 shall 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 thou in them boldly Thou shall find the winter's rage Freeze thy blood less coldly." In his master's step 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. |
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Lully, lulla, thou little tiny child
By by, lully, lullay, thou little tiny child By by, lully lullay O sisters too, how may we do For to preserve this day This poor youngling For whom we do sing By by, lully lullay? Herod, the king In his raging Charged he hath this day His men of might In his own sight, All young children to slay That woe is me Poor child for thee! And ever morn and day, For thy parting Neither say nor sing By by, lully lullay! |
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White are the far-off fields,
And white the fading forests grow; The wind dies out amongst the tides Denser still the snow, A gathering weight on roof and tree Falls down scarce audibly. The meadows and far-sheeted streams Lie still without a sound; Like some soft minister of dreams The snowfall hoods me around; In wood and water, earth and air, Silence is everywhere. Save when at lonely spells Some farmer's sleigh is urged on, With rustling runners and sharp bells, Swings by me and is gone; From the empty space I hear A sound remote and clear; The barking of a dog, To cattle, is sharply pued, Borne, echoing from some wayside stall Or barnyard far afield; Then all is silent and the snow Falls settling soft and slow The evening deepens and the grey Folds closer Earth to sky The world seems so shrouded, so far away. Its noises sleep, and I As secret as yon buried stream Plod dumbly on and dream. I dream I dream I dream I dream I dream I dream I dream I dream |
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I sowed the seeds of love
I sowed them in the spring I gathered them up in the morning so clear When the small birds so sweetly sing When the small birds so sweetly sing The gardener was standing by I asked him to choose for me He chose for me the violet, the lily and the pink But those I refused all three But those I refused all three The violet I did not like Because it bloomed so soon The lily and the pink I really over-think So I thought I would wait till June So I thought I would wait till June In June there was a red rose bud That is the flower for me I often times have plucked that red rose bud Till I gained the willow tree Till I gained the willow tree The willow tree will twist The willow tree will twine I often have wished I was in the young man's arms Who once had the arms of mine Who once had the arms of mine I sowed the seeds of love I sowed them in the spring I gathered them up in the morning so soon When the small birds so sweetly sing When the small birds so sweetly sing |
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Wassail! Wassail all over the town!
Our toast it is white and our ale it is brown; Our bowl it is made of the white maple tree; With the wassailing-bowl, we´ll drink to thee! So here is to Cherry and to his right cheek! Pray God send out master a good piece of beef, And a good piece of beef that we all may see; With the wassailing-bowl we´ll drink to thee! And here is to Dobbin and to his right eye! Pray God send our master a good Christmas pie, And a good Christmas pie that we may all see; With our wassailing-bowl, we´ll drink to thee! So here is to Broad May and to her broad horn! May God send our master a good crop of corn, And a good crop of corn that we may all see; With the wassailing-bowl we´ll drink to thee! And here is to Fillpail and to her left ear! Pray God send our master a happy new year, And a happy new year as e´er he did see; With our wassailing-bowl we´ll drink to thee! And here is to Colly and to her long tail! Pray God send our master he never may fail A bowl of strong beer, I pray you draw near, And our jolly wassail it´s then you shall hear. Then here´s to the maid in the lily-white smock Who tripped to the door and slipped back the lock; Who tripped to the door and pulled back the pin, For to let these jolly wassailers in. Wassail! Wassail all over the town! Our toast it is white and our ale it is brown; Our bowl it is made of the white maple tree; With the wassailing-bowl, we´ll drink to thee! Drink to thee, drink to thee, With the wassailing-bowl we´ll drink to thee. |
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Veni, veni, Emanuel:
Captivum solve Israel, Qui gemit in exilio, Privatus Dei Filio Gaude! Gaude! Emanuel Nascetur pro te, Israel. Veni veni, O Oriens; Solare nos adveniens; Noctis depelle nebulas, Dirasque noctis tenebras. Gaude! Gaude! Emanuel Nascetur pro te, Israel. Veni, Clavis Davidica; Regna reclude celica; Fac iter tutum superum, Et claude vias inferum. Gaude! Gaude! Emanuel Nascetur pro te, Israel. Veni, veni, Adonai, Qui populo in Sina Legem dedisiti vertice In maiestate glorie. Gaude! Gaude! Emanuel Nascetur pro te, Israel. |
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