Tribal Gospel Christmas

Away in a manger, no crib for his bed,
The little Lord Jesus laid down his wee head.
The one star in the heaven looked down where he lay,
And saw the little Lord Jesus asleep on the hay.
The cattle are lowing, the baby awakes,
But little Lord Jesus, no crying he makes.
I love you, Lord Jesus! Look down from on high
And stay by my bedside till morning is nigh.
Be near me, Lord Jesus; I know you will stay
Close by me forever, and not go away.
Bless all of the children in your tender care,
And take us to heaven to live with you there.

by William J. Kirkpatrick (1895)

Angels we have heard on high
Sweetly singing o'er the plains
And the mountains in reply
Echoing their joyous strains
|: Gloria in excelsis Deo! :|

Shepherds, why this jubilee?
Why your joyous strains prolong?
What the gladsome tidings be?
Which inspire your heavenly songs?
|: Gloria in excelsis Deo! :|

Come to Bethlehem and see
Him whose birth the angels sing;
Come, adore on bended knee,
Christ the Lord, the newborn King.
|: Gloria in excelsis Deo! :|

See Him in a manger laid
Whom the choirs of angels praise;
Mary, Joseph, lend your aid,
While our heart in love we raise.
|: Gloria in excelsis Deo! :|

By Abbé Simon-Joseph Pellegrine.
Translated into English by James Chadwick in 1862

Deck the hall with boughs of holly,
Fa, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la!
'Tis the season to be jolly:
Fa, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la!
Fill the meadcup, drain the barrel,
Fa, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la!
Troll the ancient Christmas carol.
Fa, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la!

See the flowing bowl before us,
Fa, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la!
Strike the harp, and join in chorus:
Fa, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la!
Follow me in merry measure,
Fa, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la!
While I sing of beauty's treasure.
Fa, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la!

Fast away the old year passes,
Fa, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la!
Hail the new, ye lads and lasses:
Fa, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la!
Laughing quaffing all together,
Fa, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la!
Heedless of the wind and weather.
Fa, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la!

The melody is Welsh, dating back to the sixteenth century, and belongs to a winter carol, “Nos Galan”, while the English lyrics, written by the Scottish musician Thomas Oliphant, date to 1862.

In the little village of Bethlehem,
There lay a Child one day.
And the sky was bright with a holy light,
O'er the place where Jesus lay.

Alleluia! O how the angels sang,
Alleluia! How it rang!
And the sky was bright with a holy light,
'Twas the birthday of a King.

'Twas a humble birthplace, but oh!
How much God gave to us that day,
From the manger bed, what a path has led,
What a perfect, holy way. 

Alleluia! O how the angels sang,
Alleluia! How it rang!
And the sky was bright with a holy light,
'Twas the birthday of a King.

W. H. Neidlinger (1890)

Bring a torch, Jeanette, Isabella,
Bring a torch, to the cradle run!
It is Jesus, good folk of the village;
Christ is born and Mary's calling:
Ah! Ah! Beautiful is the Mother!
Ah! Ah! Beautiful is Her Son!

Who is that, knocking on the door?
Who is it, knocking like that?
Open up, we've arranged on a platter
Lovely cakes that we have brought here
Knock! Knock! Open the door for us!
Knock! Knock! Let's celebrate!

It is wrong when the Child is sleeping,
It is wrong to talk so loud!
Silence, all, as you gather around,
Lest your noise should waken Jesus:
Hush! Hush! See how fast He slumbers;
Hush! Hush! See how fast He sleeps!

Softly to the little stable,
Softly for a moment come;
Look and see how charming is Jesus,
How He is white, His cheeks are rosy!
Hush! Hush! See how the Child is sleeping;
Hush! Hush! See how He smiles in dreams!

by Nicolas Saboly (1688)

It came upon the midnight clear,
That glorious song of old,
From angels bending near the earth
To touch their harps of gold;
"Peace on the earth, good will to men
From heaven's all-gracious King" –
The world in solemn stillness lay
To hear the angels sing.

Still through the cloven skies they come
With peaceful wings unfurled,
And still their heavenly music floats
O'er all the weary world;
Above its sad and lowly plains
They bend on hovering wing,
And ever o'er its Babel-sounds
The blessed angels sing.

But with the woes of sin and strife
The world has suffered long;
Beneath the angel-strain have rolled
Two thousand years of wrong;
And man, at war with man, hears not
The love-song which they bring; –
Oh hush the noise, ye men of strife,
And hear the angels sing!

And ye, beneath life's crushing load,
Whose forms are bending low,
Who toil along the climbing way
With painful steps and slow,
Look now! for glad and golden hours
Come swiftly on the wing; –
Oh, rest beside the weary road
And hear the angels sing!

For lo! the days are hastening on
By prophet bards foretold,
When with the ever circling years
Comes round the age of gold;
When Peace shall over all the earth
Its ancient splendors fling,
And the whole world give back the song
Which now the angels sing.

Edmund Hamilton Sears (1849) Sermons and Songs of Christian Life, pp. 17-18,
Library of Congress and The Internet Archive.

O well, O well, the Angels did say
To shepherds there in the fields did lay;
Late in the night a-folding their sheep,
A winter's night, both cold and bleak.

O well, O well, O well, O well,
Born is the King of Israel.

And then there did appear a Star,
Whose glory then did shine so far:
Unto the earth it gave a great light,
And there it continued a day and a night.

O well, O well, O well, O well,
Born is the King of Israel.

And by the light of that same Star,
Three Wise Men came from country far;
To seek a King was their intent –
They follow'd the Star wherever it went.

O well, O well, O well, O well,
Born is the King of Israel.

The Star went before them unto the North West,
And seemed o'er the City of Bethlehem to rest,
And there did remain by night and by day,
Right over the place where Jesus Christ lay.

O well, O well, O well, O well,
Born is the King of Israel.

Then enter'd in these Wise Men three,
With reverence fall on their knee,
And offer'd up in His presence
The gifts of gold and frankincense.

O well, O well, O well, O well,
Born is the King of Israel.

Tween an ox manger and an ass,
Our Blest Messiah's place it was;
To save us all from bond and thrall,
He was a Redeemer for us all!

O well, O well, O well, O well,
Born is the King of Israel.

“The First Noel” is of Cornish origin.
These lyrics were taken from “The Cornish Songbook” published in 1929

(Gesù Bambino)

When blossoms flowered 'mid the snows
Upon a winter night,
Was born the Child, the Christmas Rose,
The King of Love and Light.

The angels sang, the shepherds sang,
The grateful earth rejoiced;
And at His blessed birth the stars
Their exultation voiced.

O come let us adore Him,
O come let us adore Him,
O come let us adore Him,
Christ the Lord.

Again the heart with rapture glows
To greet the holy night,
That gave the world its Christmas Rose,
Its King of Love and Light.

Let ev'ry voice acclaim His name,
The grateful chorus swell.
From paradise to earth He came
That we with Him might dwell.

O come let us adore Him,
O come let us adore Him,
O come let us adore Him,
Christ the Lord.

“Gesù bambino” (“Baby Jesus”) is an Italian Christmas carol composed by Pietro Yon in 1917. The melody was used by Frederick H. Martens in his English language carol “When Blossoms Flowered ‘mid the Snows”

In the bleak mid-winter
  Frosty wind made moan
Earth stood hard as iron,
  Water like a stone;
Snow had fallen, snow on snow,
  Snow on snow,
In the bleak mid-winter
  Long ago.

Our God, heaven cannot hold Him
  Nor earth sustain,
Heaven and earth shall flee away
  When He comes to reign:
In the bleak mid-winter
  A stable-place sufficed
The Lord God Almighty —
  Jesus Christ.

Enough for Him, whom cherubim
  Worship night and day,
A breastful of milk
  And a mangerful of hay;
Enough for Him, whom Angels
  Fall down before,
The ox and ass and camel
  Which adore.

Angels and Archangels
  May have gathered there,
Cherubim and seraphim
  Thronged the air;
But only His Mother
  In her maiden bliss
Worshipped the Beloved
  With a kiss.

What can I give Him,
  Poor as I am? —
If I were a Shepherd
  I would bring a lamb;
If I were a Wise Man
  I would do my part, —
Yet what I can I give Him, —
  Give my heart.

Christina Rossetti, (1872)

The holly and the ivy,
When they are both full grown,
Of all the trees that are in the wood,
The holly bears the crown.

The rising of the sun
And the running of the deer,
The playing of the merry organ,
Sweet singing in the choir.

The holly bears a blossom,
As white as the lily flower,
And Mary bore sweet Jesus Christ,
To be our sweet Saviour.

The rising of the sun
And the running of the deer,
The playing of the merry organ,
Sweet singing in the choir.

The holly bears a berry,
As red as any blood,
And Mary bore sweet Jesus Christ
For to do us sinners good.

The rising of the sun
And the running of the deer,
The playing of the merry organ,
Sweet singing in the choir.

The holly bears a prickle,
As sharp as any thorn,
And Mary bore sweet Jesus Christ
On Christmas Day in the morn. 

The rising of the sun
And the running of the deer,
The playing of the merry organ,
Sweet singing in the choir.

The holly bears a bark,
As bitter as any gall,
And Mary bore sweet Jesus Christ
To redeem us all.

The rising of the sun
And the running of the deer,
The playing of the merry organ,
Sweet singing in the choir.

The holly and the ivy,
When they are both full grown,
Of all the trees that are in the wood,
The holly bears the crown.

The rising of the sun
And the running of the deer,
The playing of the merry organ,
Sweet singing in the choir.

The song can be traced only as far as the early nineteenth century, but the lyrics reflect an association between holly and Christmas dating at least as far as medieval times. The lyrics and melody varied significantly in traditional communities, but the song has since become standardized. This version was collected in 1909 by an English folk song collector named Cecil Sharp, in the market town of Chipping Campden in Gloucestershire, England, from a woman named Mary Clayton.

Lully, lullah, thou little tiny child,
Bye bye, lully, lullay.
Thou little tiny child,
Bye bye, lully, lullay.

O sisters too, how may we do
For to preserve this day
This poor youngling for whom we sing,
"Bye bye, lully, lullay"?

Herod the king, in his raging,
Chargèd he hath this day
His men of might in his own sight
All young children to slay.

That woe is me, poor child, for thee
And ever mourn and may
For thy parting neither say nor sing,
"Bye bye, lully, lullay."

Performed since the 1500’s

HARK!  How all the heavens ring!
"Glory to the King of Kings,
Peace on Earth, and Mercy mild,
God and Sinners reconciled!"

Joyful all ye Nations rise,
Join the Triumph of the Skies,
Universal Nature say
"Christ the Lord is born to Day!"

Christ, by highest Heav'n adored,
Christ, the Everlasting Lord,
Late in Time behold him come,
Offspring of a Virgin's Womb.

Veil'd in Flesh, the Godhead see,
Hail the Incarnate Deity!
Pleased as Man with Men to appear
Jesus, our Immanuel here!

Hail the Heavenly Prince of Peace!
Hail the Sun of Righteousness!
Light and Life to All he brings,
Risen with Healing in his Wings.

Mild he lays his Glory by,
Born—that Man no more may die,
Born—to raise the Sons of Earth,
Born—to give them Second Birth.

Come, Desire of Nations, come,
Fix in Us thy humble Home,
Rise, the Woman's Conquering Seed,
Bruise in Us the Serpent's Head.

Now display thy saving Power,
Ruined Nature now restore,
Now in Mystic Union join
Thine to Ours, and Ours to Thine.

Adam's Likeness, LORD, efface,
Stamp thy Image in its Place,
Second Adam from above,
Reinstate us in thy Love.

Let us Thee, though lost, regain,
Thee, the Life, the Inner Man:
O! to All Thyself impart,
Formed in each Believing Heart.

Charles Wesley wrote this original version as “Hymn for Christmas-Day” in 1739, with the opening couplet, “Hark! how all the Welkin (heavens) rings”

O little town of Bethlehem
  How still we see thee lie:
Above thy deep and dreamless sleep
  The silent stars go by;
Yet in thy dark streets shineth
  The Everlasting Light;
The hopes and fears of all the years
  Are met in thee tonight.

For Christ is born of Mary,
  And gathered all above,
While mortals sleep, the angels keep
  Their watch of wondering love.
O morning stars, together
  Proclaim the holy birth!
And praises sing to God the King,
  And peace to men on earth.

How silently, how silently
  The wondrous gift is giv'n;
So God imparts to human hearts
  The blessing of His heaven;
No ear may hear His coming,
  But in this world of sin,
Where meek souls will receive Him still
  The dear Christ enters in.

Where children pure and happy
  Pray to the blessed Child:
Where Misery cries out to Thee,
  Son of the undefiled;
Where Charity stands watching,
  And Faith holds wide the door,
The dark night wakes, the glory breaks,
  And Christmas comes once more.

O Holy Child of Bethlehem!
  Descend to us, we pray,
Cast out our sin, and enter in,
  Be born in us today;
We hear the Christmas angels
  The great glad tidings tell;
O come to us, abide with us,
  Our Lord Emmanuel!

Written by Phillips Brooks (1835–1893), an Episcopal priest, then rector of Church of the Holy Trinity, Philadelphia, and later of Trinity Church, Boston. He was inspired by visiting the village of Bethlehem in 1865.

Billy, bring your new red drum,
Robby, get your fife and come
Fife and drum together play,
Patta-patta-pan, turra-lurra-lay,
Fife and drum together play,
On this joyous Holiday

When the men of olden days
To the King of Kings gave praise,
On the fife and drum did play,
Patta-patta-pan, turra-lurra-lay,
On the fife and drum did play,
So their hearts were glad and gay

There is music in the air
You can hear it everywhere,
Fife and drum together play,
Patta-patta-pan, turra-lurra-lay,
Fife and drum together play,
On this joyous Holiday

God and man today become
More in tune than fife and drum,
Fife and drum together play,
Patta-patta-pan, turra-lurra-lay,
Fife and drum together play,
On this joyous Holiday.

Written by Bernard de la Monnoye (1641–1728)
and first published in Noël bourguignons in 1720.
Its original title is “Guillô, pran ton tamborin”
(“Willie, Bring Your Little Drum”)

The twelfth month of the year
What should I give my love?
Twelve good cheeses, 
Eleven good hams,
Ten good turkeycocks,
Nine horned oxen,
Eight sheared sheep,
Seven running dogs,
Six hares in the field,
Five rabbits trotting along the ground,
Four ducks flying in the air,
Three wood pigeons,
Two turtle doves,
One young partridge, 
Who flies, who flies, who flies,
One young partridge,
Who flies
From the wood to the field.

English Christmas Carol, circa 1780, possibly as early as 1500s

The twelfth month of the year
What should I give my love?
Twelve good cheeses, 
Eleven good hams,
Ten good turkeycocks,
Nine horned oxen,
Eight sheared sheep,
Seven running dogs,
Six hares in the field,
Five rabbits trotting along the ground,
Four ducks flying in the air,
Three wood pigeons,
Two turtle doves,
One young partridge, 
Who flies, who flies, who flies,
One young partridge,
Who flies
From the wood to the field.

English Christmas Carol, circa 1780, possibly as early as 1500s

The twelfth month of the year
What should I give my love?
Twelve good cheeses, 
Eleven good hams,
Ten good turkeycocks,
Nine horned oxen,
Eight sheared sheep,
Seven running dogs,
Six hares in the field,
Five rabbits trotting along the ground,
Four ducks flying in the air,
Three wood pigeons,
Two turtle doves,
One young partridge, 
Who flies, who flies, who flies,
One young partridge,
Who flies
From the wood to the field.

English Christmas Carol, circa 1780, possibly as early as 1500s

HARK!  How all the heavens ring!
"Glory to the King of Kings,
Peace on Earth, and Mercy mild,
God and Sinners reconciled!"

Joyful all ye Nations rise,
Join the Triumph of the Skies,
Universal Nature say
"Christ the Lord is born to Day!"

Christ, by highest Heav'n adored,
Christ, the Everlasting Lord,
Late in Time behold him come,
Offspring of a Virgin's Womb.

Veil'd in Flesh, the Godhead see,
Hail the Incarnate Deity!
Pleased as Man with Men to appear
Jesus, our Immanuel here!

Hail the Heavenly Prince of Peace!
Hail the Sun of Righteousness!
Light and Life to All he brings,
Risen with Healing in his Wings.

Mild he lays his Glory by,
Born—that Man no more may die,
Born—to raise the Sons of Earth,
Born—to give them Second Birth.

Come, Desire of Nations, come,
Fix in Us thy humble Home,
Rise, the Woman's Conquering Seed,
Bruise in Us the Serpent's Head.

Now display thy saving Power,
Ruined Nature now restore,
Now in Mystic Union join
Thine to Ours, and Ours to Thine.

Adam's Likeness, LORD, efface,
Stamp thy Image in its Place,
Second Adam from above,
Reinstate us in thy Love.

Let us Thee, though lost, regain,
Thee, the Life, the Inner Man:
O! to All Thyself impart,
Formed in each Believing Heart.

Charles Wesley wrote this original version as “Hymn for Christmas-Day” in 1739, with the opening couplet, “Hark! how all the Welkin (heavens) rings”

Watchman, tell us of the night,
What its signs of promise are.
Traveler, o'er yon mountain's height,
See that glory-beaming star!
Watchman, does its beauteous ray
Aught of hope or joy foretell?
Traveler, yes; it brings the day,
Promised day of Israel! 

Watchman, tell us of the night;
Higher yet that star ascends.
Traveler, blessedness and light,
Peace and truth its course portends.
Watchman, will its beams alone
Gild the spot that gave them birth?
Traveler, ages are its own;
See, it bursts o'er all the earth! 

by Sir John Bowring (1825)

While shepherds watched their flocks by night
all seated on the ground
an angel of the Lord came down
and glory shone around

Fear not, said he for mighty dread
had seized their troubled mind
glad tidings of great joy I bring
to you and all mankind

To you, in David's town, this day
is born of David's line
a Savior, who is Christ the Lord;
and this shall be the sign:

The heavenly babe you there shall find
to human view displayed
all simply wrapped in swaddling clothes
and in a manger laid

Thus spoke the angel. Suddenly
appeared a shining throng
of angels praising God, who thus
addressed their joyful song

All glory be to God on high
and to the earth be peace
to those on whom his favor rests
goodwill shall never cease

By Nahum Tate, Irish hymnist, lyricist and England’s Poet Laureate.
The song first first appeared in Tate and Nicholas Brady’s 1700 supplement
to their New Version of the Psalms of David of 1696.

There's a song in the air! There's a star in the sky!
There's a mother's deep prayer and a baby's low cry!
And the star rains its fire while the beautiful sing,
For the manger of Bethlehem cradles a King!
There's a tumult of joy o'er the wonderful birth,
For the virgin's sweet Boy is the Lord of the earth.
Ay! the star rains its fire while the beautiful sing,
For the manger of Bethlehem cradles a King!
In the light of that star lie the ages impearled;
And that song from afar has swept over the world.
Every hearth is aflame, and the beautiful sing
In the homes of the nations that Jesus is King!
We rejoice in the light, and we echo the song
That comes down through the night from the heavenly throng.
Ay! we shout to the lovely evangel they bring,
And we greet in His cradle our Savior and King!

By Josiah Holland, the American poet and novelist who founded Scribner’s magazine. He wrote this song for an 1874 Sunday School Journal.

God rest ye merry, gentlemen, let nothing you dismay, 
Remember Christ our Savior was born on Christmas Day; 
To save us all from Satan's pow'r when we were gone astray. 
O tidings of comfort and joy, comfort and joy; 
O tidings of comfort and joy.

In Bethlehem, in Israel, this blessèd Babe was born, 
And laid within a manger upon this blessèd morn; 
The which His mother Mary did nothing take in scorn. 
O tidings of comfort and joy, comfort and joy; 
O tidings of comfort and joy.

From God our heav'nly Father a blessèd angel came; 
And unto certain shepherds brought tidings of the same; 
How that in Bethlehem was born the Son of God by name. 
O tidings of comfort and joy, comfort and joy; 
O tidings of comfort and joy.

"Fear not, then," said the angel, "Let nothing you afright 
This day is born a Savior of a pure Virgin bright, 
To free all those who trust in Him from Satan's pow'r and might." 
O tidings of comfort and joy, comfort and joy; 
O tidings of comfort and joy.

The shepherds at those tidings rejoiced much in mind, 
And left their flocks afeeding in tempest, storm and wind, 
And went to Bethl'em straightaway this blessèd Babe to find. 
O tidings of comfort and joy, comfort and joy; 
O tidings of comfort and joy.

But when to Bethlehem they came where our dear Savior lay, 
They found Him in a manger where oxen feed on hay; 
His mother Mary kneeling unto the Lord did pray.
O tidings of comfort and joy, comfort and joy; 
O tidings of comfort and joy.

Now to the Lord sing praises all you within this place, 
And with true love and brotherhood each other now embrace; 
This holy tide of Christmas all others doth deface.
O tidings of comfort and joy, comfort and joy; 
O tidings of comfort and joy.

God bless the ruler of this house, and send him long to reign, 
And many a merry Christmas may live to see again; 
Among your friends and kindred that live both far and near 
That God send you a happy new year, happy new year, 
And God send you a happy new year.

An early version of this carol is found in an anonymous manuscript, dating from the 1650s. The earliest known printed edition of the carol is in a broadsheet dated to c. 1760. The English solicitor, member of the Percy Society and fellow of the Society of Antiquaries of London, William Sandys is responsible for the popularity of the carol and was remembered for his publication Christmas Carols Ancient and Modern (1833) a collection of seasonal carols that Sandys had apparently improvised.

Well, that’s the end of the Tribal Gospel Christmas Album.

You heard some really old Christmas songs today, and I hope you enjoyed them.

There is no organization behind Tribal Gospel, but every few months a new album appears at TribalGospel.com

The Tribal Gospel began with a story called “Way Back in the Long Ago.”

It’s a story told around a campfire by a group of old men. I had that story on my mind for 30 years, so before I went into the hospital for a surgery I might not survive, I made sure it would be available online for anyone who wanted to hear it.

“Way Back in the Long Ago” is 18 chapters that span one hour and ten minutes.

You’ll either love it or hate it.

You can read all the scripts and download the perfomances at TribalGospel.com

While you are there, you will notice that there is no paywall, and we do not solicit donations.

In fact, we don’t even accept donations.

There is nothing about Tribal Gospel that involves money.

It is just a celebration of Jesus.