A Carol Of The Innocents
A Christmas Poem by Author UnknownMark this song, for it is true,
For it is true, as clerks tell:
In old time strange things came to pass,
Great wonder and great marvel was
In Israel.
There was one, Octavian,
Octavian of Rome Emperor,
As books old doth specify,
Of all the wide world truly
He was lord and governor.
The Jews, that time, lack'd a king,
They lack'd a king to guide them well,
The Emperor of power and might,
Chose one Herod against all right,
In Israel.
This Herod, then, was King of Jews
Was King of Jews, and he no Jew,
Forsooth he was a Paynim born,
Wherefore on faith it may be sworn
He reigned King untrue.
By prophecy, one Isai,
One Isai, at least, did tell
A child should come, wondrous news,
That should be born true King of Jews
In Israel.
This Herod knew one born should be,
One born should be of true lineage,
That should be right heritor;
For he but by the Emperor
Was made by usurpage.
Wherefore of thought this King Herod,
This King Herod in great fear fell,
For all the days most in his mirth,
Ever he feared Christ his birth
In Israel.
The time came it pleased God,
It pleased God so to come to pass,
For man's soul indeed
His blessed Son was born with speed,
As His will was.
Tidings came to King Herod,
To King Herod, and did him tell,
That one born forsooth is he,
Which lord and king of all shall be
In Israel.
Herod then raged, as he were wode (mad),
As he were wode of this tyding,
And sent for all his scribes sure,
Yet would he not trust the Scripture,
Nor of their counselling.
This, then, was the conclusion,
The conclusion of his counsel,
To send unto his knights anon
To slay the children every one
In Israel.
This cruel king this tyranny,
This tyranny did put in ure (practice),
Between a day and years two,
All men-children he did slew,
Of Christ for to be sure.
Yet Herod missed his cruel prey,
His cruel prey, as was God's will;
Joseph with Mary then did flee
With Christ to Egypt, gone was she
From Israel.
All the while these tyrants,
These tyrants would not convert,
But innocents young
That lay sucking,
They thrust to the heart.
This Herod sought the children young,
The children young, with courage fell.
But in doing this vengeance
His own son was slain by chance
In Israel.
Alas! I think the mothers were woe,
The mothers were woe, it was great skill,
What motherly pain
To see them slain,
In cradles lying still!
But God Himself hath them elect,
Hath them elect in heaven to dwell,
For they were bathed in their blood,
For their Baptism forsooth it stood
In Israel.
Alas! again, what hearts had they,
What hearts had they those babes to kill,
With swords when they them caught,
In cradles they lay and laughed,
And never thought ill. A Carol Of The Innocents
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