 | Mediaeval Carols |  |
20
27. What tidings bringest thou?
What tidings bringest thou, messenger,
Of Christës birth this yearës day?
Of Christës birth this yearës day?
[1]
A babe is born of high nature,Is Prince of peace and ever shall be;
Of heaven and earth he hath the cure,
His lordship is eternity;
Such wonder tidings ye mow hear;
What tidings bringest thou messenger?
That man is made now Goddës fere,
Whom sin had made but fiendës prey.
2
A seemly sight it is to see:The burd that hath this babe y-born
Conceivëd a lord of high degree,
And maiden as she was beforn.
Such wonder tidings ye mow hear:
What tidings bringest thou, messenger?
That maid and mother is one y-fere
And alway lady of high array.
3
This maid began to greeten her child,And said: Hail Son, hail Father dear!
He said: Hail mother, hail maidë mild!
This greeting was in quaint manner.
Such wonder tidings ye mow hear:
What tidings bringest thou, messenger?
Their greeting was in such manner,
It turnëd mannës pain to play.
4
A wonder thing is now befall:That Lord that formëd star and sun,
Heaven and earth and angels all,
Now in mankind is begun.
Such wonder tidings ye mow hear:
What tidings bringest thou, messenger?
A 'fant that is not of one year
Ever hath y-be and shall be ay.
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