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A HYMN ON THE NATIVITY OF MY SAVIOUR
BEN JONSON
I sing the birth was born to-night The author both of life and light; The angels so did sound it.
And like the ravished shepherds said, Who saw the light, and were afraid, Yet searched, and true they found it.
The Son of G.o.d, th' eternal king, That did us all salvation bring, And freed the soul from danger; He whom the whole world could not take, The Word, which heaven and earth did make, Was now laid in a manger.
The Father's wisdom willed it so, The Son's obedience knew no No, Both wills were in one stature; And as that wisdom had decreed, The Word was now made flesh indeed, And took on him our nature.
What comfort by him do we win, Who made himself the price of sin, To make us heirs of glory!
To see this babe all innocence; A martyr born in our defence: Can man forget the story?
THE SHEPHERD'S SONG
EDMUND BOLTON
Sweet music, sweeter far Than any song is sweet: Sweet music, heavenly rare, Mine ears, O peers, doth greet.
You gentle flocks, whose fleeces pearled with dew, Resemble heaven, whom golden drops make bright, Listen, O listen, now, O not to you Our pipes make sport to shorten weary night: But voices most divine Make blissful harmony: Voices that seem to s.h.i.+ne, For what else clears the sky?
Tunes can we hear, but not the singers see, The tunes divine, and so the singers be.
Lo, how the firmament Within an azure fold The flock of stars hath pent, That we might them behold, Yet from their beams proceedeth not this light, Nor can their crystals such reflection give.
What then doth make the element so bright?
The heavens are come down upon earth to live But hearken to the song, Glory to glory's King, And peace all men among, These quiristers do sing.
Angels they are, as also (shepherds) He Whom in our fear we do admire to see.
Let not amazement blind Your souls, said he, annoy: To you and all mankind My message bringeth joy.
For lo! the world's great Shepherd now is born, A blessed Babe, an Infant full of power: After long night uprisen is the morn, Renowning Bethlem in the Saviour.
Sprung is the perfect day, By prophets seen afar: Sprung is the mirthful May, Which winter cannot mar.
In David's city doth this Sun appear Clouded in flesh, yet, shepherds, sit we here!
A CHRISTMAS CAROL
AUBREY DE VERE
They leave the land of gems and gold, The s.h.i.+ning portals of the East; For Him, the woman's Seed foretold, They leave the revel and the feast.
To earth their sceptres they have cast, And crowns by kings ancestral worn; They track the lonely Syrian waste; They kneel before the Babe new born.
O happy eyes that saw Him first; O happy lips that kissed His feet: Earth slakes at last her ancient thirst; With Eden's joy her pulses beat.
True kings are those who thus forsake Their kingdoms for the Eternal King; Serpent, her foot is on thy neck; Herod, thou writhest, but canst not sting.
He, He is King, and He alone Who lifts that infant hand to bless; Who makes His mother's knee His throne, Yet rules the starry wilderness.
A CHRISTMAS HYMN
ANON
Written in the Chapel of the Manger, in the Convent Church of Bethlehem, Palestine:
In the fields where, long ago, Dropping tears, amid the leaves, Ruth's young feet went to and fro, Binding up the scattered sheaves, In the field that heard the voice Of Judea's shepherd King, Still the gleaners may rejoice, Still the reapers shout and sing.
For each mount and vale and plain Felt the touch of holier feet.
Then the gleaners of the grain Heard, in voices full and sweet, "Peace on earth, good will to men,"
Ring from angel lips afar, While, o'er every glade and glen, Broke the light of Bethlehem's star.
Star of hope to souls in night, Star of peace above our strife, Guiding, where the gates of death Ope to fields of endless life.
Wanderer from the nightly throng Which the eastern heavens gem; Guided, by an angel's song, To the Babe of Bethlehem.
Not Judea's hills alone Have earth's weary gleaners trod, Not to heirs of David's throne Is it given to "reign with G.o.d."
But where'er on His green earth Heavenly faith and longing are, Heavenly hope and life have birth, 'Neath the smile of Bethlehem's star.
In each lowly heart or home, By each love-watched cradle-bed, Where we rest, or where we roam, Still its changeless light is shed.
In its beams each quickened heart, Howe'er saddened or denied, Keeps one little place apart For the Hebrew mother's Child.
And that inner temple fair May be holier ground than this, Hallowed by the pilgrim's prayer, Warmed by many a pilgrim's kiss.
In its shadow still and dim, Where our holiest longings are, Rings forever Bethlehem's hymn, s.h.i.+nes forever Bethlehem's star.
CHRISTMAS DAY
CHARLES WESLEY
Hark! the herald angels sing Glory to the new-born King!
Peace on earth and mercy mild, G.o.d and sinners reconciled.
Joyful all ye nations rise, Join the triumph of the skies, With the angelic host proclaim Christ is born in Bethlehem!
Hail the heaven-born Prince of Peace!
Hail the Sun of Righteousness!
Light and life to all he brings, Risen with healing in his wings.
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.
CHRISTMAS
ANON
