Herrick’s Carol 

What sweeter music can we bring

Than a carol, for to sing

The birth of this our Heavenly King?

Awake the voice! Awake the string:

We see Him come, and know Him ours

Who with His sunshine and His showers

Turns all the patient ground to flowers.

Dark and Dull night, fly hence away,

And give the honour to this day,

That sees December turned to May,

If we may ask the reason say:

We see Him come, and know Him ours

Who with His sunshine and His showers

Turns all the patient ground to flowers.

The darling of the world is come,

And fit it is we find a room

To welcome Him. The nobler part

Of all the house here is the heart:

We see Him come, and know Him ours

Who with His sunshine and His showers

Turns all the patient ground to flowers.

Which we will give Him and bequeath

This holly and this ivy wreath,

To do Him honour who’s our king,

And Lord of all this revelling:

We see Him come, and know Him ours

Who with His sunshine and His showers

Turns all the patient ground to flowers.

      Herrick’s Ode

In numbers, and but these few,
I sing thy birth, oh Jesu,
Thou pretty Baby, borne here,
With superabundant scorn here;
Who for thy princely port here,

 Hadst for thy place
 Of birth, a base
Out-stable for thy court here.

Instead of neat enclosures
Of interwoven osiers,
Instead of fragrant posies
Of daffodils and roses,
Thy cradle, kingly stranger,
As gospel tells
 Was nothing else,
But, here, a homely manger.

But we with silks, not crewels,
With sundry precious jewels,
And lily-work will dresser thee;
And as we dispossess thee
Of clouts, we’ll make a chamber,
Sweet babe, for thee,
Of ivory,
And plastered round with amber.

4. The Jews, they did disdain thee;
But we will entertain thee
With glories to await here
Upon thy princely state here,
And more for love then pity;
 From year to year
 We'll make Thee here,
 A freeborn of our city.