And that wynter wex greter marvaylys;
Shyppys shalbe in grete perylles ;

That yere shall kynges and lordes be slayne,
And myche hothyr pepylle agayn heym.

A drye somer that yere shallbe;
Alle that be borne there in may se,
They shalbe stronge and covethowse.
Yf thou stele awghte, thou lesyste the lyfe,
Thou shalte dye throwe swerde or knyfe;
But and thow fall seke, sertayne,
Thou shalte turne to lyfe agayne.

Yf Crystmas day, the sothe to say,

Fall uppon a Wodnysday,

That yere shallbe an harde wynter and strong,
And many hydeus wyndes amonge;

The somer mery and good shalbe,
That yere shalbe wete grete plenté;
Young folke shall dye that yere also,

And shyppes in the see shall have gret woo.
Whate chylde that day borne ys,

He shalbe dowghte and lyghte i-wysse,
And wyse and slyee also of dede,

And fynde many men mete and wede.

Yf Crystemas day on Thursday be,

A wyndy wynter see shalle yee,

Of wyndes and weders all weked,

And harde tempestes stronge and thycke.
The somer shalbe good and drye,

Cornys and bestes shall multy plye,
That yere ys good londes to tylthe,

And kynges and prynces shalle dye by skylle:
What chylde that day borne bee,

He shalle have happe ryghte well to the,
Of dedes he shalbe good and stabylle;
Of speche and tonge wyse and reasonabylle :
Who so that day ony thefte abowte,
He shalbe shente wyth-owtyn dowte;
And yf sekenes on the that day betyde,
Hyt shall sone fro the glyde.

Yf Crystmas day on the Fryday be,
The fyrste of wynter harde shalbe,
With froste and snowe, and with flode,
But the last ende therof ys goode.
Agayn, the somer shalbe good also,
Folkes in hyr yere shall have grete woo;
Wemen wyth chyld, bestes wyth corne,
Shall multyplye, and none be borne ;

The chyde that ys borne that day,
Shall longe lyve and lecherowus be aye;
Who so stelythe awghte, he shalbe fownde,
And thow be seke, hyt lastythe not longe.

Yf Crystmas on the Saterday falle,
That wynter ys to be dredden alle,
Hyt shalbe so fulle of grete tempeste,
That hyt shall sle bothe man and beste,
Frute and corne shall fayle grete won,
And olde folke dyen many on;

Whate woman that day of chylde travayle,
They shalbe borne in grete perelle ;
And chyldren that be borne that day,
Within halfe a yere they shall dye, par fay.
The somer then shall wete ryghte ylle:
If thou awght stele, hyt shal the spylle;
Thou dyest yf sekenes take the."]

THE CHRISTMAS CAROL.

"Now too is heard

The hapless cripple, tuning through the streets
His Carol new; and oft amid the gloom

Of midnight hours, prevailed th' accustom'd sounds
Of wakeful Waits, whose melody (compos'd

Of hautboy, organ, violin and flute,

And various other instruments of mirth,)
Is meant to celebrate the coming time."

Christmas, a Poem, i. 40.

BISHOP TAYLOR observes that the "Gloria in Excelsis," the well-known hymn sung by the angels to the shepherds at our Lord's Nativity, was the earliest Christmas carol. Bourne cites Durand, to prove that in the earlier ages of the churches, the bishops were accustomed on Christmas Day to sing carols among their clergy. He seems perfectly right in deriving the word Carol from cantare, to sing, and rola, an interjection of joy. This species of pious song is undoubtedly of most

"In quibusdam quoque locis-in Natali, prælati cum clericis ludunt, vel in domibus episcopalibus: ita ut etiam descendant ad cantus.' Durand. Rat. lib. vi. cap. 86, s. 9.

ancient date. We have before considered that of which the burden is Hagmena.

The subsequent Carol is of the date of the thirteenth century. It is copied from a Manuscript in the British Museum, Bibl. Reg. 16 E. VIII., where it occurs upon a spare page in the middle of the manuscript. The original is in Anglo-Norman,' 1 [We subjoin the original, as Douce's translation is not literal: "Seignors, ore entendez à nus,

De loinz sumes venuz à wous,
Pur quere NOEL !

Car l'em nus dit que en cest hostel
Soleit tenir sa feste anuel

Ahi, cest iur.

Deu doint à tuz icels joie d'amurs
Qui à DANZ NOEL ferunt honors!

Seignors, jo vus dis por veir,

Ke DANZ NOEL ne velt aveir

Si joie non;

E repleni sa maison,

De payn, de char, e de peison,

Por faire honor.

Deu doint à tuz ces joie d'amur.

Seignors, il est crié en l'ost,

Que cil qui despent bien, e tost,

E largement;

E fet les granz honors sovent,
Deu li duble quanque il despent,
Por faire honor.

Deu doint à.

Seniors, escriez les malveis,

Car vus nel les troverez jameis

De bone part:

Botun, batun, ferun, groinard,

Car tot dis a le quer cunard

Por faire henor.

Deu doint....

NOEL beyt bien li vin Engleis,
E li Gascoin, e li Franceys

E l'Angevin:

NOEL fait beivre son veisin,

Si quil se dort, le chief enclin,
Sovent le ior.

Deu doint à tuz cels....
Seignors, jo vus di par NOEL,
E par li sires de cest hostel,

and we are indebted for the translation which follows, to the pen of the late Mr. Douce:

"Now, Lordings, listen to our ditty,
Strangers coming from afar ;
Let poor minstrels move your pity,
Give us welcome, soothe our care:
In this mansion, as they tell us,

Christmas wassail keeps to day;
And, as the king of all good fellows,
Reigns with uncontrolled sway.

Lordings, in these realms of pleasure
Father Christmas yearly dwells;
Deals out joy with liberal measure,
Gloomy sorrow soon dispels :
Numerous guests, and viands dainty,
Fill the hall, and grace the board;
Mirth and beauty, peace and plenty,
Solid pleasures here afford.

Lordings, 'tis said the liberal mind,

That on the needy much bestows,
From Heav'n, a sure reward shall find;
From Heav'n, whence ev'ry blessing flows.
Who largely gives with willing hand,

Or quickly gives with willing heart;
His fame shall spread throughout the land,
His memory thence shall ne'er depart.

Lordings, grant not your protection
To a base unworthy crew,

But cherish, with a kind affection,
Men that are loyal, good, and true.
Chase from your hospitable dwelling
Swinish souls, that ever crave;
Virtue they can ne'er excel in,
Gluttons never can be brave!

Lordings, Christmas loves good drinking,
Wines of Gascoigne, France, Anjou,

Car bevez ben:

E jo primes beverai le men,

E pois après chescon le soen,

Par mon conseil ;

Si jo vus di trestoz, Wesseyl!
Dehaiz eit qui ne dirra, Drincheyl!"]

English Ale that drives out thinking,
Prince of liquors, old or new.
Every neighbour shares the bowl,
Drinks of the spicy liquor deep,
Drinks his fill without control

Till he drowns his care in sleep.

And now-by Christmas, jolly soul!
By this mansion's generous sire!
By the wine, and by the bowl,

And all the joys they both inspire!
Here I'll drink a health to all:

The glorious task shall first be mine.
And ever may foul luck befall

Him that to pledge me shall decline.

THE CHORUS.

"Hail, Father Christmas! hail to thee!
Honour'd ever shalt thou be!
All the sweets that Love bestows,
Endless pleasures wait on those
Who like vassals brave and true,

Give to Christmas homage due."

In the Churchwardens' Accounts of St. Mary-at-Hill, in the city of London, 1537, is the following entry: "To Sr Mark for carolls for Christmas, and for 5 square books, iij. iiijd.

[A very curious collection of Christmas carols was edited by Mr. Wright in 1841, for the Percy Society. The following one is preserved in a MS. of the time of Henry VI. in the Public Library at Cambridge.