SONG SHEET FOR

CAROLLING @ THE MILL

12 December 2018

 

[In alphabetical order]

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Calling-on song

Ding dong merrily on high

God rest ye merry gentlemen

Good King Wenceslas

Hark the herald angels sing

O the holly she bears a berry

The holly and the ivy

The Malpas wassail

While Shepherds Watched

Who would true valour see

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Calling-on song

 

Kind people, pray heed our petition,

Your attention we’ll beg and we pray,

And if you are inclined for to listen

An abundance of pastimes we’ll have.

 

We’re come to relate many stories

Concerning our forefathers’ times,

And we trust they will drive out your worries,

Of this we are all in one mind.

 

Many tales of the poor and the gentry,

Of labour and love will arise,

There are no finer songs in this country,

In Scotland nor Ireland likewise.

 

There’s one thing more needing mention,

The dances we’ll dance all in fun,

So now that you’ve heard our intention,

We’ll play oooon to the beeeeat of the druuuum.

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Ding dong merrily on high

 

Ding dong merrily on high,
In heav'n the bells are ringing:
Ding dong! verily the sky
Is riv'n with angels singing.
  Gloria, Hosanna in excelsis!

E'en so here below, below,
Let steeple bells be swungen,
And "Io, io, io!"
By priest and people sungen.
  Gloria, Hosanna in excelsis!

Pray you, dutifully prime
Your matin chime, ye ringers;
May you beautifully rime
Your evetime song, ye singers.
  Gloria, Hosanna in excelsis

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God rest ye merry gentlemen


God rest ye merry, gentlemen
Let nothing you dismay
Remember, Christ, our Saviour
Was born on Christmas day
To save us all from Satan's power
When we were gone astray
    O tidings of comfort and joy,
    Comfort and joy
    O tidings of comfort and joy

In Bethlehem, in Israel,
This blessed Babe was born
And laid within a manger
Upon this blessed morn
The which His Mother Mary
Did nothing take in scorn

From God our Heavenly Father
A blessed Angel came;
And unto certain Shepherds
Brought tidings of the same:
How that in Bethlehem was born
The Son of God by Name.

"Fear not then," said the Angel,
"Let nothing you affright,
This day is born a Saviour
Of a pure Virgin bright,
To free all those who trust in Him
From Satan's power and might."

The shepherds at those tidings
Rejoiced much in mind,
And left their flocks a-feeding
In tempest, storm and wind:
And went to Bethlehem straightway
The Son of God to find.

And when they came to Bethlehem
Where our dear Saviour lay,
They found Him in a manger,
Where oxen feed on hay;
His Mother Mary kneeling down,
Unto the Lord did pray.

Now to the Lord sing praises,
All you within this place,
And with true love and brotherhood
Each other now embrace;
This holy tide of Christmas
All other doth deface.
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Good King Wenceslas

 

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 will see him dine
When we bear him 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, my good page
Tread thou in them boldly
Thou shalt find the winter's rage
Freeze thy blood less coldly."

In his master's steps 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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Hark the herald angels sing

 

Hark the herald angels sing
"Glory to the newborn King!
Peace on earth and mercy mild
God and sinners reconciled"
Joyful, all ye nations rise
Join the triumph of the skies
With the angelic host proclaim:
"Christ is born in Bethlehem"
Hark! The herald angels sing
"Glory to the newborn King!"

Christ by highest heav'n adored
Christ the everlasting Lord!
Late in time behold Him come
Offspring of a Virgin's womb
Veiled in flesh the Godhead see
Hail the incarnate Deity
Pleased as man with man to dwell
Jesus, our Emmanuel
Hark! The herald angels sing
"Glory to the newborn King!"

Hail the heav'n-born Prince of Peace!
Hail the Son of Righteousness!
Light and life to all He brings
Ris'n 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
Hark! The herald angels sing
"Glory to the newborn King!"

 

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O the holly she bears a berry

 

O the Holly, she bears a berry, as white as the milk.
And Mary she bore Jesus all wrapped up in silk.

Chorus:
   And Mary she bore Jesus our Saviour for to be.
   And the first tree that's in the green wood, it was the Holly.
   Holly. Holly.
   And the first tree that's in the green wood, it was the Holly.

O the Holly, she bears a berry, as green as the grass.
And Mary she bore Jesus who died on the cross.

Now the holly bears a berry as black as the coal,
And Mary she bore Jesus, who died for us all:


O the Holly, she bears a berry, as blood it is red.
And we trust in our saviour who rose from the dead.

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The holly and the ivy

 

The holly and the ivy,
When they are both full grown,
Of all trees that are in the wood,
The holly bears the crown

[Refrain:]
O, the rising of the sun,
And the running of the deer
The playing of the merry organ,
Sweet singing in the choir.

The holly bears a blossom,
As white as lily flow'r,
And Mary bore sweet Jesus Christ,
To be our dear Saviour

The holly bears a berry,
As red as any blood,
And Mary bore sweet Jesus Christ,
To do poor sinners good

The holly bears a prickle,
As sharp as any thorn,
And Mary bore sweet Jesus Christ,
On Christmas Day in the morn

The holly bears a bark,
As bitter as the gall,
And Mary bore sweet Jesus Christ,
For to redeem us all

The holly and the ivy,
When they are both full grown,
Of all trees that are in the wood,
The holly bears the crown

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The Malpas wassail

 

Now the harvest being over
And Christmas drawing in
Please open your door
And let us come in
With our wassail

Chorus:

     Wassail, wassail
     And joy come to our jolly wassail

The master and mistress
Sitting down by the fire
While we poor wassail boys
Do trudge through the mire
With our wassail

The master and mistress
Sitting down at their ease
Put your hands in your pockets
And give what you please
With our wassail

This ancient awd house
We will kindly salute
It is your custom
You need not dispute
With our wassail

The saddle and the bridle
They're hung upon the shelf
If you want any more
You can it sing yourself
With our wassail

Here's an health to the master
And a long time to live
Since you've been so kind
And so willing to give
With our wassail
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While Shepherds Watched

[Sung to the tune of “Ilkley Moor”]

While shepherds watched their flocks by night
All seated on the ground

The angel of the Lord came    down
And glory shone around

"Fear not," he said, For mighty dread
Had seized their troubled minds

 "Glad tidings of great joy I    bring
To you and all mankind,

"To you in David's Town this day
Is born of David's line

The Saviour who is Christ the – Lord
And this shall be the sign

"The heavenly Babe You there shall find
To human view displayed
And meanly wrapped in swathing – bands
And in a manger laid”

Thus spake the seraph, And forthwith
Appeared a shining throng
Of angels praising God, who – thus
Addressed their joyful song

"All glory be to God on high
And to the earth be peace;
Goodwill henceforth from heaven to – men
Begin and never cease!"

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Who would true valour see

Who would true valour see, 
Let him come hither;
One here will constant be,
Come wind, come weather.
There’s no discouragement
Shall make him once relent
His first avowed intent
To be a pilgrim.

 

Whoso beset him round
With dismal stories
Do but themselves confound;
His strength the more is.
No lion can him fright,
He’ll with a giant fight,
He will have a right
To be a pilgrim.

 

Hobgoblin nor foul fiend
Can daunt his spirit,
He knows he at the end
Shall life inherit.
Then fancies fly away,
He’ll fear not what men say,
He’ll labour night and day
To be a pilgrim.

 

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Updated:

 

12.xii.2018