The Hymns and Carols of Christmas

I Come From Heuin To Tell

For Christmas Eve

Ane Sang of the Birth of Christ, with the tune of Baw Lulalaw

Words and Music: Vom Himmel hoch da komm ich her, by Martin Luther
From Joseph Klug's Gesangsbuch, 1535
Notes and Translations: Notes for Vom Himmel Hoch Da Komm Ich Her

Text based on Luke 2: 1-18

Music: "Baw Lulalaw", traditional Scottish song

Source: A Compendious Book of Psalms and Spiritual Songs, Commonly Known as “The Gude and Godlie Ballates.” (Edinburgh: Reprinted from the Edition of 1578, M.DCCC.LXVIII [1868]), pp. 43-45.

1. I come from heuin to tell
The best nowellis that euer be fell:
To zow thir tythinges trew I bring,
And I will of them say and sing.

2. This day to zow is borne ane Chylde,
Of Mary meik, and Virgine mylde;
That blyssit bairne, bening and kynde,
Sall zow reioyce baith hart and mynde.

3. It is the Lord Christ, God and man,
He will doe for zow quhat he can;
Himself zour Sauiour will be,
Fra sin and hell to make zow fre.

4. He is zour richt saluation,
From euerlasting dampnatioun,
That ze may ring in gloir and blis,
For euer mair in heuin with his.

5. Ze sall him find but mark or wying,
Full sempill in ane cribe lying;
So lyis he quhilk zow hes wrocht,
And all this warld maid of nocht.

6. Let vs reioyce and be blyith,
And with the Hyrdis go full swyith,
And se quhat God of his grace hes done
Throw Christ to bring vs to his throne.

7. My saull and lyfe stand vp and se
Quha lyis in ane cribe of tre;
Quhat babe is that, so gude and fair?
It is Christ, Goddis Sone and air.

8. Welcum now, gracious God of micht,
To sinneris vyle, pure and vnricht;
Thow come to saif vs from distres,
How can wee thank thy gentilnes?

9. O God that maid all creature,
How art thow becummin sa pure,
That on the hay and stray will ly,
Amang the assis, oxin and ky?

10. And war the warld ten tymes sa wyde,
Cled ouir with golde and stanis of pryde,
Unworthie it war zit to the,
Under thy feit ane stule to be.

11. The silk and sandell thé to eis,
Are hay and sempill sweiling clais,
Quhairin thow gloiris, greitest King,
As thow in heuin were in thy ring.

12. Thow tuik sic panis temporall,
To make me riche perpetuall:
For all this warldis welth and gude,
Can nathing riche thy Celcitude.

13. O my deir hert, zoung Jesus sweit,
Prepaie thy creddill in my spreit,
And I sall rocke thé in my hart,
And neuer mair fra thé depart.

14. Bot I sall praise thé euer moir,
With sangis sweit vnto thy gloir;
The kneis of my hert sall bow,
And sing that richt Balulalow.

15. Gloir be to God eternallie,
Quhilk gaue his only Sone for me,
The Angellis joyis for to heir,
The gracious gift of this New Zeir.

                    f i n i s.

Editor's Notes:

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