The Hymns and Carols of Christmas

What Tythyngis Bryngst Us, Messangere

For Christmas
For the Circumcision of our Lord, Jan. 1

Words: John Audelay, from a MS. Of the 15th Century
Bodleian Library. MS. Douce 302.

Compare: What Tidings (Rickert)
What Tidings Bringest Thou (From Hutchins, with sheet music)
What Tidings Bringest Thou Messenger? (Terry, Two Hundred Folk Carols)

In die circumcicionis Domini.

         What tythyngis bryngst us, messangere,
         Of Cristis borth this New Eris Day?


A Babe is borne of hye natewre,
A Prynce of Pese that ever schal be;
Off heven and erthe he hath the cewre;
Hys lordchip is eterneté!
         Seche wonder tythyngis ye may here —
         What tythyngis bryngis thee, messangere? —
                   That God and Mon is hon in fere;
                   Hour syn had mad bot Fyndis pray!
         What tythyngis bryngst us, messangere,
         Of Cristis borth this New Eris Day?

A semlé selcouth hit is to se —
The burd that had this Barne iborne,
This Child conseyvyd in he degré,
And maydyn is as was beforne!
         Seche wonder tydyngus ye mow here
         Of Cristis borth this New Eris Day,
                   That maydon and modur ys won yfere,
                   And lady ys of hye aray!
         What tythyngis bryngst us, messangere,
         Of Cristis borth this New Eris Day?

A wonder thyng is now befall —
That Lord that mad both se and sun,
Heven and erth, and angelis ale,
In monkynde ys now becumme!
         Whatt tydyngus bryngis us, messangere,
         Of Cristis borth this New Eris Day?
                   A faunt that is bot of on yere,
                   Ever as ben and schal be ay!
         What tythyngis bryngis thou, messangere,
         Of Cristis borth this New Eris Day?

Thise lovelé ladé con grete here Chylde:
“Hayle, Sun! Haile, Broder! Haile, Fader dere!”
“Haile, doghter! Haile, suster! Haile, moder myld!” —
This haylsyng was on coynt manere!
         Seche wonder tythyngis ye may here
         Of Cristis borth this New Eris Day —
                   This gretyng was of so he chere
                   That mans pyne, hit turnyd to play!
         What tythyngis bryngst us, messangere,
         Of Cristis borth this New Eris Day?

That Lord, that al thyng mad of noght,
Is Mon becum fore mons love;
Fore with his blood, he schul be boght
From bale to blys that is above!
         Seche wonder tythyngis ye may here
         Of Cristis borth this New Eris Day!
                   That Lord us grawnt now our prayoure
                   To twel in heven that we may;
         Seche wonder tythyngis ye may here
         Of Cristis borth this New Eris Day!

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