Последний отзыв
Так получилось, что книга ко мне попала в тяжелый эмоциональный кризис и многое мне дала. Написано актуально, тут многих полезных вещей, никакого злоу...
Далее
По всем вопросам обращайтесь на: info@litportal.ru
(©) 2003-2024.
✖
Christmas in Poetry
Автор
Год написания книги
2017
Настройки чтения
Размер шрифта
Высота строк
Поля
But in an ox’s stall.
“He neither shall be clothéd
In purple nor in pall;
But in the fair, white linen,
That usen babies all.
“He neither shall be rockéd
In silver nor in gold,
But in a wooden cradle
That rocks on the mould.
“He neither shall be christened
In white wine nor in red,
But with fair spring water
With which we were christenéd.”
Mary took her baby,
She dressed Him so sweet,
She laid Him in a manger,
All there for to sleep.
As she stood over Him
She heard angels sing,
“O bless our dear Saviour,
Our heavenly King.”
From the Cherry Tree Carol
CRADLE HYMN
Away in a manger, no crib for a bed,
The little Lord Jesus laid down his sweet head.
The stars in the bright sky looked down where he lay —
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 thee, Lord Jesus! Look down from the sky,
And stay by my cradle till morning is nigh.
Martin Luther
A CHRISTMAS CAROL
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.
Angels and archangels
May have gathered there,
Cherubim and seraphim
Thronged the air;
But only His Mother
In her maiden bliss
Worshipped her 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 G. Rossetti
CAROL
When the herds were watching
In the midnight chill,
Came a spotless lambkin
From the heavenly hill.
Snow was on the mountains,
And the wind was cold,
When from God’s own garden
Dropped a rose of gold.
When ’twas bitter winter,
Houseless and forlorn
In a star-lit stable
Christ the Babe was born.
“He neither shall be clothéd
In purple nor in pall;
But in the fair, white linen,
That usen babies all.
“He neither shall be rockéd
In silver nor in gold,
But in a wooden cradle
That rocks on the mould.
“He neither shall be christened
In white wine nor in red,
But with fair spring water
With which we were christenéd.”
Mary took her baby,
She dressed Him so sweet,
She laid Him in a manger,
All there for to sleep.
As she stood over Him
She heard angels sing,
“O bless our dear Saviour,
Our heavenly King.”
From the Cherry Tree Carol
CRADLE HYMN
Away in a manger, no crib for a bed,
The little Lord Jesus laid down his sweet head.
The stars in the bright sky looked down where he lay —
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 thee, Lord Jesus! Look down from the sky,
And stay by my cradle till morning is nigh.
Martin Luther
A CHRISTMAS CAROL
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.
Angels and archangels
May have gathered there,
Cherubim and seraphim
Thronged the air;
But only His Mother
In her maiden bliss
Worshipped her 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 G. Rossetti
CAROL
When the herds were watching
In the midnight chill,
Came a spotless lambkin
From the heavenly hill.
Snow was on the mountains,
And the wind was cold,
When from God’s own garden
Dropped a rose of gold.
When ’twas bitter winter,
Houseless and forlorn
In a star-lit stable
Christ the Babe was born.
Другие электронные книги автора Various
Последний отзыв
Так получилось, что книга ко мне попала в тяжелый эмоциональный кризис и многое мне дала. Написано актуально, тут многих полезных вещей, никакого злоу...
Далее