Browse Carols: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z # Marke This Songe For It Is Trewe 2 Marke this songe for it is trewe For it is trewe as clerkes tell. In olde tyme straung thyngs cam to pas Grete wonder and grete meruayll was In Israell. There was one Octauyan Octauyan of Rome Emperour. As bokes olde doth specyfye Of all the wyde worlde trulye. He was lorde and gouernour. The Jewes that tyme lackyd a kyng They lackyd a kyng to gyde them well The Emperour of power and myght Chose one Herode agaynst all ryght In Israell. This Herode than was kyng of Jewys Was kynge of Jewys and he no Jewe For so the he was a panym borne Wherfore on fayth it may be sworne He reygned kynge vntrewe. By prophesye one Isay One Isay, at lest dyd tell A chylde sholde come wonderous newys the shold be borne trewe kyng of Jewys In Israell. This Herode knew one borne shold be One borne sholde be of trewe lenage That sholde be ryght herytour For he but by the Emperour Was made by vsurpage Wherfore of throught this kynge Herode This kynge Herode in grete fere fell For all the days most in his myrth Euer he fered Chrystes byrth In Israell. The tyme came it pleased god It pleased god so come to pas For mannes soule in dede His blyssed sone was borne wyth spede As his wyll was Tydynges came to kynke Herode To kynge Herode, and dyd hym tell That one borne forsoth is he Which lorde and kynge of all shall be In Israell. Herode than raged as he were woode As he were wode of this tydynge And sent for all his scrybes sure Yet wolde he not trust the scrypture Nor of theyr councellynge. Than this was the conclusyon The conclusyon of his councell To sende vnto his knyghtes anone To sle the chylderne euerychone In Israell. This cruell kynge this tyranny This tyranny dyd put in vre Bytwene a day and yeres too All men chylderne he dyd sloo Of Cryst for to be sure. Yet Herode myssed his cruell pray His cruell pray as was goddes wyll Joseph with Mary than dyd fle With Chryst to Egypt gone was she In Israell. All this whyle this tyrantes This tyrantes wolde not conuert But innocentes yonge That lay sokynge They thryst to the herte. This Herode sought the chyldren This chyldren yonge, with corage fell But in doynge thys vengeaunce His owne sone was slayne by chaunce In Israell. Alas I thynke the moders were wo The moders were wo it was grete skyl What motherly payne To se them slayne In cradels lyeng styll: But god hymn selfe hath theym electe Hath theym electe, in heuyn to dwell. For they were bathed in theyr blode For theyr baptym forsoth it stode In Israell. Alas agayne what hartes had they What harts had they those babes kyll With swerdes whan they hym caught In cradels they lay and laught And neuer thought yll. Browse Carols: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #