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A Ceremony of Carols: VIII. In freezing winter night Video (MV)






Choir of The Queen's College - A Ceremony of Carols: VIII. In freezing winter night Lyrics




[ Featuring Oxford, Lucy Wakeford, Owen Rees ]

Behold a silly tender babe,
In freezing winter night
In homely manger trembling lies
Alas a piteous sight!
The inns are full no man will yield
This little pilgrim bed
But forced he is with silly beasts
In crib to shroud his head
This stable is a Prince's court
This crib his chair of State
The beasts are parcel of his pomp
The wooden dish his plate
The persons in that poor attire
His royal liveries wear
The Prince himself is come from heav'n
This pomp is prizèd there
With joy approach, O Christian wight
Do homage to thy King
And highly praise his humble pomp
Wich he from Heav'n doth bring

Behold a silly tender babe, In freezing winter night In homely manger trembling lies Alas a piteous sight! The inns are full no man will yield This little pilgrim bed But forced he is with silly beasts In crib to shroud his head This stable is a Prince's court This crib his chair of State The beasts are parcel of his pomp The wooden dish his plate The persons in that poor attire His royal liveries wear The Prince himself is come from heav'n This pomp is prizèd there With joy approach, O Christian wight Do homage to thy King And highly praise his humble pomp Wich he from Heav'n doth bring Cell BI514
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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Behold a silly tender babe,
In freezing winter night
In homely manger trembling lies
Alas a piteous sight!
The inns are full no man will yield
This little pilgrim bed
But forced he is with silly beasts
In crib to shroud his head
This stable is a Prince's court
This crib his chair of State
The beasts are parcel of his pomp
The wooden dish his plate
The persons in that poor attire
His royal liveries wear
The Prince himself is come from heav'n
This pomp is prizèd there
With joy approach, O Christian wight
Do homage to thy King
And highly praise his humble pomp
Wich he from Heav'n doth bring

Behold a silly tender babe, In freezing winter night In homely manger trembling lies Alas a piteous sight! The inns are full no man will yield This little pilgrim bed But forced he is with silly beasts In crib to shroud his head This stable is a Prince's court This crib his chair of State The beasts are parcel of his pomp The wooden dish his plate The persons in that poor attire His royal liveries wear The Prince himself is come from heav'n This pomp is prizèd there With joy approach, O Christian wight Do homage to thy King And highly praise his humble pomp Wich he from Heav'n doth bring Cell BI514
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Benjamin Britten
Copyright: Lyrics © CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC


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