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Christmas Day is come;
Let's all prepare for mirth,
Which fills the heav'ns and earth
At this amazing birth.
Through both the joyous angels,
In strife and hurry fly,
With glory and hosannas,
"All Holy" do they cry,
In heav'n the Church triumphant,
Adores with all her choirs,
The militant on earth
With humble faith admires.
But why should we rejoice?
Should we not rather mourn
To see the hope of nations,
Thus in a stable born?
Where are his crown and sceptre,
Where is this throne sublime,
Where is his train majestic
That should the stars outshine?
Is there no sumptuous palace,
Nor any inn at all,
To lodge his heav'nly mother
But in a lowly stall?
If we would then rejoice,
Let's cancel the old score.
And, purposing amendment,
Resolve to sin no more.
For mirth can ne'er content us,
Without a conscience clear;
And thus we'll find true pleasure,
In all the usual cheer.
In dancing, sporting, revelling,
With masquerade and drum,
So let our Christmas merry be,
As Christians doth become.
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marker 99
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