Advent, 7

On Jordan's bank the Baptist's cry
announces that the Lord is nigh;
awake and hearken, for he brings
glad tidings of the King of kings.

Then cleansed be every breast from sin;
make straight the way for God within,
prepare we in our hearts a home
where such a mighty Guest may come.

For thou art our salvation, Lord,
our refuge and our great reward;
without thy grace we waste away
like flowers that wither and decay.

Advent, 6

Dwell in our hearts, O Savior blest;
so shall thine advent's dawn
'twixt us and thee, our bosom-guest,
be but the veil withdrawn.

Advent, 5

Of a rose, a lovely rose
Of a rose is all my song.

Listeneth, lordings, both elde and yinge,
How this rose began to springe;
Such a rose to my likinge
In all this world know I never none.

The angel came from heaven's tower
To greet Mary with great honour,
And said she should bear the flower
That should break the fiend's bond.

The flower sprung in high Bethlem,
That is both bright and schene.
The rose is Mary, heaven's queen;
Out of her bosom the blossom sprung.

Advent, 4: The flower

There is a flower sprung of a tree
The root therof is called Jesse;
A flower of price,
There is none such in Paradise.



This flower is fair and fresh of hue,
It fades never, but ever is new;
The blissful branch this flower on grew
Was Mary mild that bare Jesu.
A flower of grace,
Against all sorrow it is solace.

The seed thereof was Goddes sond,*
That God himself sowed with his hand
In Bethlem in that holy land.
Amidst her herbere there he her fond.*
This blissful flower
Sprang never but in Mary's bower.

When Gabriel this maid met
With Ave Maria he her gret
Between them two this flower was set,
And kept was, no man should wit;
But on a day
In Bethlem it con spread and spray.*


* of God's sending
* in her garden there he found her
* began to bloom

Advent, 3: Medicine

Myn herte of deedes was fordred
For synne that I have my flesh fed
And followed all my tyme,
I know not whither I shall be led
When I lye on deathes bed
In joy or into pyne.
On a lady myn hope is,
Mother and virgin;
We shall in to heaven's bliss
Through her medicine.

Better is her medicine
Than any mead or any wine
Her herbs smelleth sweet.
From Caithness into Dublin
Is there no leech so fine
Our sorrows to bete.

Advent, 2: The knot was knit

'Ecce ancilla domini'
Seid tho virgin withouten vice;
When Gabriell hur gret graciously,
That holy pinakell preved of price,
'Of thee schall springe a full swete spice'.
Then seid the meydon full mildely,
'And sithen I am of so litill of price,
Ecce ancilla domini'.

...

When tho angell was vanesched awey,
Sche stode al in hur thoght,
And to herself sche can sey,
'All God's will schall be wroght;
For he is well of all witte,
As witnesses well his story.'
At that word knot was knitte:
'Ecce ancilla domini'.

Advent, 1

There is no rose of such vertu
As is the rose that bare Jesu.
Alleluia.

For in this rose contained was
Heaven and earth in little space
Res miranda.

By that rose we may well see
There be one God in persons three,
Pares forma.

The angels sungen the shepherds to
Gloria in excelsis deo.
Gaudeamus.

Leave we all this worldly mirth
And follow we this joyful birth.
Transeamus.