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Monday, December 16, 2013

THE LION'S NOEL, V. Ye Byrds Nowell



His stable is 

a Prince’s courte,
The cribbe His 

chaire of State;
The beastes 

are parcell of 

His pompe,
The wodden dishe, 

His plate.
Robert Southwell 







The Lion's Noël
A Book of Christmas Beasts


V. Ye Byrds Nowell









The Storke

A Christemas Ballad



The Storke shee rose on Christemas Eve
     And sayed unto her broode,
I nowe muste fare to Bethlehem
     To viewe the Sonne of God.


Shee gave to eche his dole of mete,
     Shee stowed them fayrlie in,
And faire shee flew and faste shee flew
     And came to Bethlehem.


Nowe where is He of David’s lynne?
     Shee asked at house and halle.
He is not here, they spake hardlye,
     But in the maungier stalle.


Shee found Hym in the maungier stalle
     With that most Holye Mayde;
The gentyle Storke shee wept to see
     The Lorde so rudelye layde.


Then from her panntynge brest shee plucked
     The fethers whyte and warm;
Shee strawed them in the maungier bed
     To kepe the Lorde from harm.


Nowe blessèd bee the gentyle Storke
     Forever more quothe Hee
For that shee saw my sadde estate
     And showed me such pytye.


Full welkum shall shee ever bee
     In hamlet and in halle,
And hight henceforth the Blessèd Byrd
     And friend of babyes all.



                 From the fly-leaf of King Edward VI’s prayer book, 1549




(in a less fancy typeface)

The Storke

A Christemas Ballad



The Storke shee rose on Christemas Eve
     And sayed unto her broode,
I nowe muste fare to Bethlehem
     To viewe the Sonne of God.


Shee gave to eche his dole of mete,
     Shee stowed them fayrlie in,
And faire shee flew and faste shee flew
     And came to Bethlehem.


Nowe where is He of David’s lynne?
     Shee asked at house and halle.
He is not here, they spake hardlye,
     But in the maungier stalle.


Shee found Hym in the maungier stalle
     With that most Holye Mayde;
The gentyle Storke shee wept to see
     The Lorde so rudelye layde.


Then from her panntynge brest shee plucked
     The fethers whyte and warm;
Shee strawed them in the maungier bed
     To kepe the Lorde from harm.


Nowe blessèd bee the gentyle Storke
     Forever more quothe Hee
For that shee saw my sadde estate
     And showed me such pytye.


Full welkum shall shee ever bee
     In hamlet and in halle,
And hight henceforth the Blessèd Byrd
     And friend of babyes all.



                 From the fly-leaf of King Edward VI’s prayer book, 1549




(in a more modern style)


The Stork

A Christmas Ballad


The Stork she rose on Christmas Eve
     And said unto her brood,
I now must go to Bethlehem
     To see the Son of God.


She gave to each his piece of meat,
     She tucked them tightly in,
And fair she flew and fast she flew
     And came to Bethlehem.


Now where is He of David’s line?
     She asked at house and hall.
He is not here, they said, in fine
     He lies in manger stall.


She found Him in the manger stall
     With that most Holy Maid;
The gentle Stork, she wept to see
     The Lord so rudely laid.


Then from her panting breast she plucked
     The feathers white and warm;
She strawed them in the manger bed
     To keep the Lord from harm.


Now blessèd be the gentle Stork
     Forevermore said He
For that she saw my sad estate
     And showed me such pity.


Full welcome shall she ever be
    In hamlet and in hall,
And called henceforth the Blessèd Bird
     And friend of babies all.



                 From the fly-leaf of King Edward VI’s prayer book, 1549








The Carol of the Birds



When rose the eastern star

The birds came from afar,

In that full night of glory.

With one melodious voice

They sweetly did rejoice,

And sang the wondrous story


Sang, praising God on high,

Enthroned above the sky,

And His fair Mother, Mary.


The eagle left his lair,

Came winging through the air,

His message loud arising.

And to his joyous cry

The sparrow made reply

His answer sweetly voicing.


"Overcome are death and strife,

This night is born New Life,"

The robin sang, rejoicing.


When rose the eastern star

The birds came from afar.



Based on a Catalan carol, performed by Joan Baez on her album NOËL, published by Carl Fischer


Follow this link to hear a performance of Peter Schickele's arrangement of this beautiful carol:





Here is another version:


Carol of the Birds 



Upon this holy night,
When God sets forth a light
And floods the earth with brightness
Birds' voices rise in song
And warbling all night long
Express their glad heart's lightness


The Nightingale is here
To bring his song of cheer,
And tell us of His gladness:
Jesus, our Lord, is born
To free us from all sin
And banish ev'ry sadness!


The answ'ring Sparrows say:
"God comes to earth this day
Amid the angels flying."
Trilling in sweetest tones,
The Finch his Lord now owns:
"To Him be all thanksgiving."


The Partridge adds his note:
"To Bethlehem I'll soar,
Where in the stall He's lying.
There, near the manger blest,
I'll build myself a nest,
And sing my love undying.



     Traditional Catalan carol, translator unknown









Whence Comes This Rush of Wings?



Whence comes this rush of wings afar,

Following straight the Noël star?

Birds from the woods in wondrous flight,

Bethlehem seek this Holy Night.


"Tell us, ye birds, why come ye here,

Into this stable, poor and drear?"

"Hast'ning we seek the newborn King,

And all our sweetest music bring."


Hark how the Greenfinch bears his part,

Philomel, too, with tender heart,

Chants from her leafy dark retreat,

Re, mi, fa, sol, in accents sweet.


Angels and shepherds, birds of the sky,

Come where the Son of God doth lie;

Christ on earth with man doth dwell,

Join in the shout, "Noël, Noël!"



                  Traditional French carol













The Birds


From out of a wood did a cuckoo fly, 

     Cuckoo,

He came to a manger with joyful cry, 

     Cuckoo;

He hopped, he curtsied, round he flew,

And loud his jubilation grew,

     Cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo.



A pigeon flew over to Galilee,

     Vrercroo,

He strutted, and cooed, and was full of glee, 

     Vrercroo,

And showed with jewelled wings unfurled,

His joy that Christ was in the world,

     Vrercroo, vrercroo, vrercroo.



A dove settled down upon Nazareth,

      Tsucroo, 

And tenderly chanted with all his breath, 

     Tsucroo;

“O you,” he cooed, “so good and true,

My beauty do I give to you –

     Tsucroo, tsucroo, tsucroo.”





          Traditional Czech Carol, Zezulka z Lesa Vylítla
                           translated by Percy Dearmer, 1867-1936







"The Birds" in the original Czech (Zezulka z Lesa Vylitla)







From "Hamlet" Act I. Scene 1




Some say that ever 'gainst that season comes

Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated,

This bird of dawning singeth all night long;

And then, they say, no spirit dare stir abroad,

The nights are wholesome, then no planets strike,

No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm,

So hallow'd and so gracious is the time.




         William Shakespeare











King Herod and the Cock



There was a star in David’s land

     Which shed a cheerful ray

Into King Herod’s chamber and

     Where’er King Herod lay.



The Wise Men soon espied it

     And told the king a-nigh,

A Princely Babe was born that night

     No king could e’er destroy.



“If this be true,” King Herod said,

     That thou hast told to me,

This roasted cock that lies in dish

     Shall crow out loud times three.”



The cock jumped up full featherèd

     By the work of God’s own hand;

And he did crow three times out loud


     In the dish where he did stand!






               Anonymous, from "The Carnel and the Crane" 












To Bethl'em I Would Go



To Bethl'em I would go

The tiny King to show

My black rooster, sleek and trim,

My cuckoo both brown and slim:

These will I give Him.



Rooster will crow away,

Making the Baby gay;

Little cuckoo perching near His head,

Calling sweetly will make His heart glad:

These will I give Him.



Coo, coo-coo!  Coo, coo-coo!

They sing for Jezísku!




Coo, coo-coo!  Coo, coo-coo!

Jesu, they sing for you!



       Traditional Czech, Sel Bych Rád k Betlému, translated by Mary Vojácek Cochrane and                          George K. Evans



























I would I were a bird or star,

Fluttering in woods, or lifted far

     Above this inn,

     And road of sin!

Then either star or bird should be

Shining or singing still to Thee.





                     Anonymous, From "Christ's Nativity"




Here ends
Ye Byrds Nowell 







_______________________




Photograph: "Stork in Flight" from MacDonald Wildlife Photography, www.hoothollow.com

Bird design by William Morris

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