Poor folk that may my carol hear (_The bells ring single and the bells ring clear_), See! God’s one Child had hardest cheer! (Carillon, Carilla). Men grown hard on a Christmas morn; The dumb beast by and a babe forlorn. It was very, very cold when our Lord was born. And the small child Jesus smile on you.
Now these were Jews as Jews must be (_The bells ring wild and the bells ring free!_), But Christian men in a band are we (Carillon, Carilla). Empty we go and ill bedight, Singing Noël on a winter’s night; Give us to sup by the warm firelight. And the small child Jesus smile on you.
The Moon on the one hand, the Dawn on the other; The Moon is my sister, the Dawn is my brother. The Moon on my left, and the Dawn on my right; My Brother, good morning; my Sister, good night.
There was a man was half a clown (It’s so, my father tells of it), He saw the church in Clermont Town, And laughed to hear the bells of it.
He laughed to hear the bells that ring In Clermont Church and round of it; He heard the verger’s daughter sing, And loved her for the sound of it.
The verger’s daughter said him nay (She had the right of choice in it); He left the town at break of day (He hadn’t had a voice in it).
The road went up, the road went down, And there the matter ended it; He broke his heart in Clermont Town, At Pontgibaud they mended it.
The clouds are high and the skies are wide (_It’s a weary way to the world’s end_). I hear the wind upon a hillside (_Over the hills, away_).
Over the hills and over the sea (_It’s a weary way to the world’s end_). The woman alone is a-calling me (_Over the hills, away_).
Beyond the rim of the rising moon (_It’s a weary way to the world’s end_). He’s back too late who starts too soon (_Over the hills, away_).
He’s wise, and he laughs who loves to roam (_It’s a weary way to the world’s end_); He’s wise and he cries the when he comes home (_Over the hills, away_).
Woman alone, and all alone (_It’s a weary way to the world’s end_). I’ll just be sitting at home, my own, The world’s a weary way.
Death went into the steeple to ring, And he pulled the rope and he tolled a knell. Fille-la-Haine, how well you sing! Why are they ringing the Passing Bell? _Death went into the steeple to ring; Fille-la-Haine, how well you sing!_