What sweeter music

What sweeter music can we bring

Than a carol, for to sing

The birth of this our heavenly King?

Awake the voice! Awake the string!

Dark and dull night, fly hence away,

And give the honour to this day

That sees December turned to May.

That sees December turned to May.

Why does the chilling winter's morn

Smile, like a field beset with corn?

Or smell like a meadow newly shorn

Thus on the sudden? Come and see

The cause, why things thus fragrant be:

'Tis he is born, whose quickening birth

Give life and lustre, public mirth,

To heaven and the under-earth.

We see him come, and know him ours,

Who, with his sunshine and his showers,

Turns all the patient ground to flowers.

Turns all the patient ground to flowers.

The darling of the world is come,

And fit it is, we find a room

To welcome him, to welcome him.

The nobler part of all the house here, is the heart,

Which we will give him: and bequeath

This holly, and this ivy wreath.

To do him honour, who's our King,

And Lord of all this revelling.

What sweeter music can we bring

Than a carol, for to sing

The birth of this our heavenly King?

The birth of this our heavenly King?