Sir Christemas
Nowell, Nowell, Nowell, Nowell.
Who is there that singeth so,
Nowell, Nowell, Nowell?
I am here, Sir Christemas.
Welcome, my lord Sir Christemas!
Welcome to us all, both more and less!
Come near, Nowell.
Dieu vous garde, beaux sieurs, tidings I you bring:
A maid hath borne a child full young,
The which causeth you for to sing:
Nowell.
Christ is now born of a pure maid;
In an ox-stall he is laid,
Wherefore sing we all at a brayde:
Nowell.
Buvez bien par toute la compagnie,
Make good cheer and be right merry,
And sing with us now joyfully:
Nowell.
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