A Carol

This thrice and four times happy night —
These tidings sang the angels bright —
Forlorn, betwixen ear and horn,

A babe shall Jhesu Lord be born,

A weeping babe in all the cold ; —

This word the angels sang of old —

And wisps of hay shall be his bed;

This word of old the angels said

Of Him which keepeth in His hand

The strong sea and green land.

O babe and Lord, Thou Jhesu bright, —
Let all and some now sing this night —
Betwixt our sorrow and our sin,

Be thou new-born our hearts within ;
New-born, dear babe and little King,

So letten some and all men sing —

Zo wipe for us our tears away!

This night so letten all men say

Of Him which spake, and lo! they be —
‘The green land and strong sea.

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