Brightest and Best of the Sons of the Morning

Merry Christmas!

 

Brightest and best of the sons of the morning,
Dawn on our darkness and lend us Thine aid;
Star of the East, the horizon adorning,
Guide where our infant Redeemer is laid.

Cold on His cradle the dewdrops are shining;
Low lies His head with the beasts of the stall;
Angels adore Him in slumber reclining,
Maker and Monarch and Savior of all!

Say, shall we yield Him, in costly devotion,
Odors of Edom and offerings divine?
Gems of the mountain and pearls of the ocean,
Myrrh from the forest, or gold from the mine?

Vainly we offer each ample oblation,
Vainly with gifts would His favor secure;
Richer by far is the heart’s adoration,
Dearer to God are the prayers of the poor.

(Reginald Heber orig­in­al­ly wrote this hymn for the Feast of the Epi­pha­ny. It was first pub­lished in the Christ­ian Ob­serv­er in 1811, but did not ap­pear in hym­nals un­til af­ter He­ber’s death.)

Christmas songs, of course!

I am sure that you all would be much deprived if I didn't re-post two of my best-loved Christmas songs:

• O Come, O Come, Emmanuel

• In the Bleak Mid-Winter

Enjoy!

O Come, O Come, Emmanuel

Enya singing O Come, O Come, Emmanuel is really lovely.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DPHh3nMMu-I

From her CD: And Winter Came

In the Bleak Mid-Winter

My new favorite Christmas song is apparently not new at all. The lyrics come from a poem written by Christina Rossetti in 1872, set to the tune Cranham by Gustav Holst. Listen to Sarah McLachlan sing it here. The poem is below.


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.