GLORIA TIBI DOMINE


There is a Child born of our blessed Virgin;
I heard a Maid lullaby to sing:
Peace, my dear Child, of thy weeping,
For thou shalt be our Heavenly King.

Chorus
Now sing we, and now sing we,
To the Gloria tibi Domine.

O Mother! O Mother! your wishes are nought;
It is not for me such carols are wrought;
Such carols were never by woman thought
To the Gloria tibi Domine. Chorus

O my dear Son, why sayest thou so?
Thou art my Son, I have no moe;
When Gabriel begot thee, full of grace,
Thou needest not tell me of this case. Chorus

O they will thrust, Mother, my head from my hair,
With a crown of thorns they will me not spare,
And with the sharp spears my heart will tear,
To the Gloria tibi Domine. Chorus

O come you here, Mother, and you shall see
My hands and my feet nailed to the rood tree,
And my feet, Mother, are fastned thereby,
A vile sight, Mother for you to see.

Now sing we, and now sing we,
To the Gloria tibi Domine.
And now sing we more or less,
And welcome be this merry Christmas.



(Contributed by Frank DiSalle - December 2003)