It’s two days after Christmas now, and the all-Christmas-all-the-time radio stations have all gone back to playing the usual dreck. Have you ever noticed that the world’s interest in the “holiday season” abruptly cuts out once the possibility for shopping is over? What a world.

And what a pity! Because the Advent season is over and the Nativity season is here. There’s still so much to say, so much to think about. So before you put away all the Christmas albums, you can reflect on two old classics that would make more sense sung after December 25 than before. (Heck, one of them you can wait until September to sing if you want.)

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The Coventry Carol (Lully, Lullay)

Ties in with: The Slaying of the Holy Innocents — December 29 (December 26 in the West)
Wikipedia link about the song: HERE

If you don’t remember the song, here’s part of it. They changed the words though, as people tend to do, that Old English not making much sense to them. (buy the whole song HERE):

This is a song of such pure sweetness that it’s hard to believe that it’s a mother lamenting her infant son who will soon be killed by Herod’s soldiers. The song is all that’s left of a 15th century “mystery play” (a play that highlighted parts of the Bible in song) called “The Pageant of the Shearmen and Tailors.” The lyrics are a little hard to follow, but what you can understand – together with the lilting sadness of this melody — are enough to remind us that the first martyrs to die for Christ were 14,000 children in Bethlehem. Here are the lyrics:
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Lullay, Thou little tiny Child,
By, by, lully, lullay.
Lullay, Thou little tiny Child.
By, by, lully, lullay.

O sisters, too, how may we do,
For to preserve this day;
This poor Youngling for whom we sing,
By, by, lully, lullay.

Herod the King, in his raging,
Charged he hath this day;
His men of might, in his own sight,
All children young to slay.

Then woe is me, poor Child, for Thee,
And ever mourn and say;
For Thy parting, nor say nor sing,
By, by, lully, lullay.

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Good King Wenceslas

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Ties in with: Either St. Stephen’s day — December 27 (December 26 in the West) OR St. Wenceslaus day — September 28 (same in the West)

Here’s a little of what it sounds like (buy the whole song in this version HERE)
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The lyrics are from 1863, the tune is a Finnish song of the 1500’s. The story is about the “good king” taking pity on one of his lowly subjects on a winter’s day. Trekking through the snow with food and drink to give to a peasant, his page complains that the cold is too much for him. The king tells the page to follow in his footsteps, and sure enough, when “in his master’s steps he trod,” the page finds he can bear the weather. So the song serves to remind 19th-century Christians that to do an act of random kindness was to follow in their Master’s footsteps. Not a bad thing to remember now, too.

“King Wenceslas” was St. Wenceslaus, Prince of the Czechs, a much-beloved young ruler who was killed by his ambitious brother in 935 while on his way into Matins. He’s one of the main patron saints in the Czech Republic and figures in many legends, including one in Prague that if the land is ever in danger, his equestrian statue will come to life so he can come to the rescue.

And he’s an Orthodox saint, too, so if anyone is dying to have ‘Wenceslaus’ as their church name, it’s legit. Just make sure you don’t spell it without the ‘u’ like the Christmas carol. But do make sure you look out on the Feast of Stephen. It may be bowing to pop culture, but everyone will expect it of you.

Apart from that mention of the date, there’s nothing tying it specifically to St. Stephen, so I suppose this carol is most aptly sung on St. Wenceslaus’ day, September 28.

Here are the lyrics of the song:

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Good King Wenceslas looked out
On the feast of Stephen
When the snow lay round about
Deep and crisp and even
Brightly shone the moon that night
Though the frost was cruel
When a poor man came in sight
Gath’ring winter fuel

“Hither, page, and stand by me
If thou know’st it, telling
Yonder peasant, who is he?
Where and what his dwelling?”
“Sire, he lives a good league hence
Underneath the mountain
Right against the forest fence
By Saint Agnes’ fountain.”

“Bring me flesh and bring me wine
Bring me pine logs hither
Thou and I will see him dine
When we bear him thither.”
Page and monarch forth they went
Forth they went together
Through the rude wind’s wild lament
And the bitter weather

“Sire, the night is darker now
And the wind blows stronger
Fails my heart, I know not how,
I can go no longer.”
“Mark my footsteps, my good page
Tread thou in them boldly
Thou shalt find the winter’s rage
Freeze thy blood less coldly.”

In his master’s steps he trod
Where the snow lay dinted
Heat was in the very sod
Which the Saint had printed
Therefore, Christian men, be sure
Wealth or rank possessing
Ye who now will bless the poor
Shall yourselves find blessing

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(Little bit of legalese here: In accordance with Title 17 U.S.C. Section 107, this material is distributed without profit.)