Masters, In This Hall
by
“To Bethl’em did they go, the shepherds three;
To Bethl’em did they go to see whe’r it were so or no,
Whether Christ were born or no
To set men free.”
Masters, in this hall,
Hear ye news to-day
Brought over sea,
And ever I you pray.
Nowell! Nowell! Nowell! Nowell!
Sing we clear!
Holpen are all folk on earth,
Born is God’s Son so dear.
Going over the hills,
Through the milk-white snow,
Heard I ewes bleat
While the winds did blow.
Nowell, etc.
Shepherds many an one
Sat among the sheep;
No man spake more word
Than they had been asleep.
Nowell, etc.
Quoth I, “Fellows mine,
Why this guise sit ye?
Making but dull cheer,
Shepherds though ye be?
Nowell, etc.
“Shepherds should of right
Leap, and dance, and sing;
Thus to see you sit
Is a right strange thing.”
Nowell, etc.
Quoth these fellows three,
“To Bethl’em town we go,
To see a Mighty Lord
Lie in manger low.”
Nowell, etc.
“How name ye this Lord,
Shepherds?” then said I.
“Very God,” they said,
“Come from Heaven high.”
Nowell, etc.
Then to Bethl’em town
We went two and two,
And in a sorry place
Heard the oxen low.
Nowell, etc.
Therein did we see
A sweet and goodly May,
And a fair old man;
Upon the straw she lay.
Nowell, etc.
And a little Child
On her arm had she;
“Wot ye who is this?”
Said the hinds to me.
Nowell, etc.
Ox and ass Him know,
Kneeling on their knee:
Wondrous joy had I
This little Babe to see.
Nowell, etc.
This is Christ the Lord:
Masters, be ye glad!
Christmas is come in,
And no folk should be sad.
Nowell, etc.
William Morris.
The Worship Of The Babe.
“Rejoice, our Saviour He was born
On Christmas day in the morning.”
Old Carol.