|
Oh, the holly and the ivy,
Now they are both full-grown,
Of all the trees that are in the woods
The holly tree bears the crown:
Oh, the rising of the sun,
The running of the deer,
The playing of the merry organ,
Sweet singing all in the choir.
The holly tree bears a blossom,
As white as any milk
And Mary bore Sweet Jesus Christ
All wrapped up in silk:
The holly tree bears a berry,
As red as any blood,
And Mary bore Sweet Jesus Christ
To do poor sinners good:
The holly tree bears a bark,
As bitter as any gall,
And Mary bore Sweet Jesus Christ
To do redeem us all:
The holly tree bears a prickle,
As sharp as any thorn,
And Mary bore Sweet Jesus Christ
On Christmas Day in the morn:
|