You That Make A Toil Of Pleasure
Words: Tu que cerques tei delice
English Translation by the Rev. J. O'Connor
Music: A Provenšal NoŰl.
Source: Richard Runciman Terry, Two Hundred Folk Carols (London: Burns Oates & Washbourne Limited, 1933), Carol #79, pp. 2-3.
1. You that make a toil of pleasure,
Hankering after delights,
Shall you not reckon your plight?
Shall you never have the leisure?
Since our God, Ah me!
Choosing pain, eschews all measure.
Since our God, Ah why?
Suffers in a sty!
2. Palace-hall is hardly able
To enclose your vanity
Courts and tons leave you not free
But you not most pitiable
Since our God ah me!
Takes His comfort in a stable
Since our God ah why!
Lodges in a sty.
3. When you have destroyed a dinner
And the cooks tempt you no more
Down you lie heavy to snore
Smothered in embroidered linen
Why our God, ah me!
On a plank bed plays the sinner.
Why our God, ah why?
Hungers in a sty.
Sheet Music from Richard Runciman Terry, Two Hundred Folk Carols (London: Burns Oates & Washbourne Limited, 1933), Carol #79, pp. 2-3.
If you would like to help support Hymns and Carols of Christmas, please click on the button below and make a donation.