Britten. A Ceremony of Carols

Britten. A Ceremony of Carols 1. Procession  Today Christ is born; Today the Saviour has appeared; Today the angels sing, The archangels rejoice, Today the righteous rejoice, saying: Glory be to God in the highest. Alleluia! 2. Wolcum Yole!  Wolcum, Wolcum, Wolcum be thou hevenè king. Wolcum Yole! Wolcum, born in one morning. Wolcum for whom we sall sing! Wolcum be ye Stevene and Jon. Wolcum Innocentes every one. Wolcum, Thomas marter one. Wolcum, be ye, Good Newe Yere. Wolcum Twelfth Day both in fere, Wolcum, seintes lefe and dere, Wolcum Yole! Candelmesse, Quene of bliss. Wolcum bothe to more and lesse. Wolcum be ye that are here. Wolcum Yole! Wolcum alle and make good cheer. Wolcum alle another yere. Wolcum Yole! Wolcum! 3. There is no rose  There is no rose of such virtue As is the rose that bare Jesu: Alleluya. For in this rose contained was Heaven and earth in little space: Res miranda. By that rose we may well see That he is God in person three: Pari forma. The angels sung the shepherds to: “Gloria in excelsis Deo“, Gaudeamus. Leave we all this worldly mirth, And follow we this joyful birth: Transeamus. 4a. That yongë child  That yongë child when it gan weep With song she lulled him asleep; That was so sweet a melody It passèd alle minstrelsy. The nightingalë sang also: Her song is hoarse and nought thereto: Whoso attendeth to her song And leaveth the first then doth he wrong. 4b. Balulalow  O my deir hert, young Jesus sweit, Prepare thy creddil in my spreit, And I sall rock thee in my hert And never mair from thee depart. But I sall praise thee evermoir With sangis sweit unto thy gloir; The knees of my heart sall I bow, And sing that richt Balulalow! 5. As dew in Aprille (Sung text) Language: English I sing of a maiden that is makèles: King of all kings to her son she ches. He came al so stille there his moder was, As dew in Aprille that falleth on the grass. He came al so stille to his moder bour, As dew in Aprille that falleth on the flour. He came al so stille there his moder lay, As dew in Aprille that falleth on the spray. Moder and mayden was never none but she; Well may such a lady Goddes moder be. 6. This little babe  This little Babe so few days old is come to rifle Satan’s fold; all hell doth at his presence quake though he himself for cold do shake; for in this weak unarmèd wise the gates of hell he will surprise. With tears he fights and wins the field, his naked breast stands for a shield; his battering shot are babish cries, his arrows looks of weeping eyes, his martial ensigns Cold and Need and feeble Flesh his warrior’s steed. His camp is pitchèd in a stall, his bulwark but a broken wall; the crib his trench, haystacks his stakes; of shepherds he his muster makes; and thus, as sure his foe to wound, the angels’ trump alarum sound. My soul, with Christ join thou in fight, stick to the tents that he hath pight. Within his crib is surest ward, this little Babe will be thy guard. If thou wilt foil thy foes with joy, then flit not from this heavenly Boy. 7. Interlude (Harp Solo) 8. In freezing winter night  Behold, a silly tender babe in freezing winter night, In homely manger trembling lies; alas, a piteous sight! The inns are full, no man will yield this little pilgrim bed. But forced he is with silly beasts, in crib to shroud his head. This stable is a Prince’s court, this crib his chair of State; The beasts are parcel of his pomp, this wooden dish his plate. The persons in that poor attire his royal liveries wear; The Prince himself is come from Heav’n; this pomp is prizèd there. With joy approach o Christian wight, do homage to thy King; And highly praise his humble pomp, which he from Heav’n doth bring. 9. Spring carol  Pleasure it is To hear, iwis, The Birdès sing. The deer in the dale, The sheep in the vale, The corn springing. God’s purveyance For sustenance, It is for man. Then we always To give him praise, And thank him than, And thank him than. Text Authorship: 10. Deo gracias (Sung text) Language: English Deo gracias!