an hie shall wonne;
Blessed be God this game is begonne
And his moder emperesse of helle."{31}

Salvation is rather an objective external thing than an inward and
spiritual process. A man has but to pray devoutly to the dear Mother and
Child, and they will bring him to the heavenly court. It is not so much
personal sin as an evil influence in humanity, that is cured by the great
event of Christmas:--

"It was dark, it was dim,
For men that leved in gret sin;
Lucifer was all within,
Till on the Cristmes day. |50|

There was weping, there was wo,
For every man to hell gan go.
It was litel mery tho,
Till on the Cristmes day."{32}

But now that Christ is born, and man redeemed, one may be blithe
indeed:--

"Jhesus is that childes name,
Maide and moder is his dame,
And so oure sorow is turned to game.
_Gloria tibi domine._

* * * * *

Now sitte we downe upon our knee,
And pray that child that is so free;
And with gode herte now sing we
_Gloria tibi domine_."{33}

Sometimes the religious spirit almost vanishes, and the carol becomes
little more than a gay pastoral song:--

"The shepard upon a hill he satt;
He had on him his tabard and his hat,
His tar-box, his pipe, and his flagat;
His name was called Joly Joly Wat,
For he was a gud herdes boy.
Ut hoy!
For in his pipe he made so much joy.

* * * * *

Whan Wat to Bedlem cum was,
He swet, he had gone faster than a pace;
He found Jesu in a simpell place,
Betwen an ox and an asse.
Ut hoy!
For in his pipe he made so much joy.

'Jesu, I offer to thee here my pipe,
My skirt, my tar-box, and my scripe;
Home to my felowes now will I skipe,
And also look unto my shepe.'
Ut hoy!
For in his pipe he made so much joy."{34}

|51| But to others again, especially the lullabies, the hardness of the
Nativity, the shadow of the coming Passion, give a deep note of sorrow
and pathos; there is the thought of the sword that shall pierce Mary's
bosom:--

"This endris night I saw a sight,
A maid a cradell kepe,
And ever she song and seid among
'Lullay, my child, and slepe.'

'I may not slepe, but I may wepe,
I am so wo begone;
Slepe I wold, but I am colde