A Virgin Most Pure

A vir­gin most pure

As the pro­phets do tell

Hath brought forth a ba­by

As it hath be­fell

To be our Re­deem­er

From death

hell and sin

Which Ad­am’s trans­gress­ion

Has wrap­pèd us in.

And there­fore be mer­ry

Set sor­row aside;

Christ Je­sus our Sav­ior

Was born on this tide.

At Beth­le­hem ci­ty

In Jew­ry it was

Where Jo­seph and Ma­ry

Together did pass

And there to be tax­èd

With ma­ny one more

For Cæ­sar com­mand­ed

The same should be so.

But

when they had en­tered

The ci­ty so fair

A num­ber of peo­ple

So migh­ty was there

That Jo­seph and Ma­ry

Whose sub­stance was small

Could get in the ci­ty

No lodg­ing at all.

Then were they con­strained

In a sta­ble to lie

Where ox­en and ass­es

They used to tie;

Their lodg­ing so sim­ple

They held it no scorn

But against the next morn­ing

Our Sav­ior was born.

The King of all glo­ry

To this world be­ing brought

Small store of fine lin­en

To wrap Him was sought

When Ma­ry had swad­dled

Her young Son so sweet

Within an ox man­ger

She laid Him to sleep.

Then God sent an an­gel

From Heav­en so high

To cer­tain poor shep­herds

In fields where they lie

And bade them no long­er

In sor­row to stay

Because that our Sav­ior

Was born on this day.

Then pre­sent­ly af­ter

The shep­herds did spy

A num­ber of an­gels

Appear in the sky;

Who joy­ful­ly talk­èd

And sweet­ly did sing

To God be all glo­ry

Our heav­en­ly king.

Three cer­tain wise princ­es

They thought it most meet

To lay their rich of­fer­ings

At our Sav­ior’s feet;

Then the shep­herds con­sent­ed

And to Beth­le­hem did go

And when they came thi­ther

They found it was so.