Tell us, thou clear and heavenly tongue, Where is the Babe but lately sprung? Lies he the lily-banks among? Or say, if this new Birth of ours Sleeps, laid within some ark of flowers, Spangled with dew-light; thou canst clear All doubts, and manifest the where. Declare to us, bright star, if we shall seek Him in the morning's blushing cheek, Or search the beds of spices through, To find him out? Star. No, this ye need not do; But only come and see Him rest A Princely Babe in's mother's breast. He's seen, He's seen! why then around, Let's kiss the sweet and holy ground; And all rejoice, that we have found A King before conception crown'd. Come then, come then, and let us bring Unto our pretty Twelfth-tide King, Each one his several offering; And when night comes, we'll give Him wassailing; And that His treble honours may be seen, We'll choose Him King, and make His mother Queen.
Three Carols
Song Cycle by Kenneth Leighton (1929 - 1988)
1. The star‑song  [sung text checked 1 time]
Language: English
Authorship:
- by Robert Herrick (1591 - 1674), "The star-song", subtitle: "A Carol to the King sung at Whitehall"
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]2. Lully, lulla, thou little tiny child  [sung text checked 1 time]
Language: English
Lully, lulla, 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 every morn and day, For thy parting, Neither say nor sing By by, lully lullay!
Authorship:
- by Anonymous / Unidentified Author, from the Pageant of the Shearmen and Tailors, 15th century
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Researcher for this page: Lidy van Noordenburg3. An ode of the birth of our Saviour  [sung text checked 1 time]
Language: English
In Numbers, and but these few, I sing Thy Birth, Oh Jesu! Thou prettie Babie, borne here, With sup'rabundant scorn here: Who for Thy Princely Port here, Hadst for Thy place Of Birth a base Outstable for thy Court here. Instead of neat Inclosures Of interwoven Osiers; Instead of fragrant Posies Of Daffadils, and Roses; Thy cradle, Kingly Stranger, As Gospell tells Was nothing els, But, here, a homely manger. But we with Silks, (not Crewels), With sundry precious Jewells, And Lilly-work will dresse Thee; And as we dispossesse Thee Of clouts, wee'l make a chamber, Sweet Babe, for Thee, Of Ivorie, And plaister'd round with Amber. The Jews they did disdaine Thee, But we will entertaine Thee With Glories to await here Upon Thy Princely State here, And more for love, then pittie. From yeere to yeere, Wee'l make Thee, here, A Freeborn of our Citie.
Authorship:
- by Robert Herrick (1591 - 1674)
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]Total word count: 390