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THE NATIVITY OF OUR LORD
Come, give me, child, the tuneful lute,
That I, in faithful verse, may sound,
The mighty deeds of Christ renowned.
Our lyre His praise alone resound.
Begotten of the Father's breast,
Before the world began to be,
Beginning and the ending He,
And all that future time shall see,
He took the form of fallen flesh,
Its members subject to decay,
From primal seed, should pass away,
The law had plunged with baleful sway.
O beatus ortus ille,
Psallat altitudo coeli;
Ecce! quem vates vetustis
Te senes et te iuventus,
() blest was that nativity,
When bringing forth her first-born Child The Virgin our Salvation bore
Conceived by Spirit undefiled,
Lift up His holy face and smiled.
Then sing the utmost height of heaven;
Let all the holy angels sing; And every power where'er it be
God's praises let it gladly bring; Nor mute let any tongue remain,
Together let all voices ring.
Behold! the One whom holy seers
Were wont to sing in days of old; And whom the faithful page, inscribed
By prophets' hand, had long foretold, He shineth forth the promised One;
Let Him by all things be extolled!
Thee let old age and Thee let youth,
And Thee let praise the children's choir, Let matrons' and the virgins' throng,
Let simple maids in voice conspire With one accord in modest lays
To make resound Thy praises higher.