Twelve Carols of Christmas: Eleventh Carol

It will be Epiphany soon, that means the Three Kings have finally come to their journey’s end and it also means the Christmas decorations have to come down. I always hate taking the decorations down; the house looks so bare and empty without them.

My chosen carol is an Epiphany carol. The carol is As with Gladness Men of Old by William Chatterton Dix. Dix wrote the carol on 6th January 1859 while he was ill in bed.

 

As with Gladness Men of Old

As with gladness men of old
Did the guiding star behold
As with joy they hailed its light
Leading onward, beaming bright
So, most gracious God, may we
Evermore be led to Thee

As with joyful steps they sped
To that lowly manger bed
There to bend the knee before
Thee whom heaven and earth adore
So may we with willing feet
Ever seek Thy mercy-seat

As they offered gifts most rare
At that manger rude and bare
So may we with holy joy
Pure, and free from sin’s alloy
All our costliest treasures bring
Christ, to Thee, our heavenly King

Holy Jesus, every day
Keep us in the narrow way
And, when earthly things are past
Bring our ransomed souls at last
Where they need no star to guide
Where no clouds Thy glory hide.

In the heavenly country bright
Need they no created light
Thou its light, its joy, its crown
Thou its sun, which goes not down.
There forever may we sing
Hallelujahs to our King

 

William Chatterton Dix

 

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Twelve Carols of Christmas: Ninth Carol

Hello!

Have we all recovered from our New Year celebrations?

My chosen carol for today is by William Chatterton Dix (1837-1898). The well known tune it is usually set to is Greensleeves.

 

What Child is this

 

What child is this, who laid to rest

on Mary’s lap is sleeping?

whom angels greet with anthems sweet,

while shepherds watch are keeping?

this, this is Christ the King,

whom shepherds worship and angels sing:

haste, haste to bring him praise

the babe, the son of Mary.

 

Why lies he in such mean estate,

where ox and ass are feeding?

Come, have no fear, God’s Son is here,

his love all loves exceeding:

nails, spear, shall pierce him through,

the cross be borne for me, for you:

hail, hail, the Saviour comes,

the babe, the son of Mary.

 

So bring him incense, gold and myrrh,

all tongues and peoples own him,

the King of kings salvation brings,

let every heart enthrone him:

raise, raise your song on high

while Mary sings a lullaby,

joy, joy, for Christ is born,

the babe, the son of Mary.

 

William Chatterton Dix

 

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