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Sting
Sting


Background information
Birth name Gordon Matthew Sumner
Born October 2, 1951
Born place Wallsend, England
Genre(s) Rock
New Wave
Pop
Jazz
Years active 1971—present
Label(s) Universal
A&M Records
Deutsche Grammophon
Associated acts The Police
Website Website



Music World  →  Lyrics  →  S  →  Sting  →  Albums  →  If on a Winter's Night...

Sting Album


If on a Winter's Night... (10/27/2009)
10/27/2009
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Bethlehem Down (Limited/Deluxe editions bonus track)
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Blake's Cradle Song (Limited/Deluxe editions bonus track)
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The Coventry Carol (Japanese release bonus track)
. . .


From the album A Very Special Christmas
(Traditional)

The Angel Gabriel from heaven came
His wings as drifted snow, his eyes as flames
"Oh hail" has said he to Holy Maiden Mary
(to holy mary)
Most highly favoured maid Gloria
(Most highly favoured maid Gloria)

Forknown a blessed mother thou shalt be
For generations loan and honnaly
Thy son shall be Imanuel th'as years forsawt =(forseen)
Most highly favoured maid Gloria
(Most highly favoured maid Gloria)

The gentle Mary neatly bowed the head
"To me, be as it pleaseth God" she said
"My soul shall whole and magnify this holy maid"
Most highly favoured maid Gloria
(Most highly favoured maid Gloria)

Of her Imanuel, the Christ was crossed
His Bethlehem all honor Christmas ghost
As everyone through out the world will Heaven save
Most highly favoured maid Gloria

. . .


A soul cake, a soul cake,
Please, good missus, a soul cake,
An apple, a pear, a plum or a cherry,
Any good thing to make us all merry.
A soul cake, a soul cake,
Please, good missus, a soul cake,
One for Peter, two for Paul,
And three for Him that made us all.
God bless the master of this house
And the mistress also,
And all the little children
That round your table grow;
The cattle in your stable,
The dogs at your front door,
And all that dwell within your gates
We'll wish you ten times more.
A soul cake, a soul cake…
Go down into the cellar
And see what you can fi nd;
If the barrels are not empty
We'll hope that you'll be kind;
We'll hope that you'll be kind
With your apple and your pear,
And we'll come no more a-soulin'
Till Christmas time next year.
A soul cake, a soul cake…
The streets are very dirty,
Me shoes are very thin,
I have a little pocket
To put a penny in;
If you haven't got a penny
A ha'penny will do;
If you haven't got a ha'penny
God bless you.
A soul cake, a soul cake…

. . .


1. There is no rose of such virtue
As is the rose that bare Jesu;
Alleluia.

2. For in this rose contained was
Heaven and earth in little space;
Res miranda.

3. By that rose we may well see
That he is God in persons three,
Pari forma.

4. The angels sungen the shepherds to:
Gloria in excelsis deo:
Gaudeamus.

5. Leave we all this worldly mirth,
And follow we this joyful birth;
Transeamus.

6. Alleluia, res miranda,
Pares forma, gaudeamus,
Transeamus.

. . .


Oh the snow it melts the soonest when the winds begin to sing
And the corn it ripens fastest when the frosts are setting in,
And when a woman tells me that my face she'll soon forget,
Before we part I want to croon, she's fain to follow yet.

Oh the snow it melts the soonest when the wind begins to sing,
And the swallow skims without a thought as long as it is Spring,
But when Spring goes and Winter grows, my loss and you'll be fain,
For all your pride you'll follow my across the stormy main.

Oh the snow it melts the soonest when the winds begin to sing,
The bee that flew when Summer shone, in Winter cannot sting,
I've seen a woman's anger melt between the night and morn
And it's surely not a harder thing to tame a woman's scorn.

Oh never say me farewell here, no farewell I'll receive,
For you shall take me to the stile, I'll kiss and take your leave,
But I'll stay here 'til the woodcock comes and the matler takes his wing
Since the snow it melts the soonest when the winds begin to sing.

. . .


All day we fought the tides between the North Head and the South,
All day we hauled the frozen sheets to scape the storm's wet mouth,
All day as cold as charity, in bitter pain and dread,
For very life and nature we tacked from head to head.
We gave the South a wider berth, for there the tide-race roared;
But every tack we made we brought the North Head close aboard:
We saw the cliffs and houses and the breakers running high,
And the coastguard in his garden, his glass against his eye.
The frost was on the village roofs as white as ocean foam;
The good red fi res were burning bright in every long-shore home;
The windows sparkled clear and the chimneys volleyed out;
And I vow we sniffed the victuals as the vessel went about.
The bells upon the church were rung with a mighty jovial cheer;
For it's just that I should tell you how (of all days in the year)
This day of our adversity was blessed Christmas morn,
And the house above the coastguard's was the house where I was born.
And well I knew the talk they had, the talk that was of me,
Of the shadow on the household and the son that went to sea;
And, oh, the wicked fool I seemed, in every kind of way,
To be here and hauling frozen ropes on blessed Christmas Day.

. . .


Lo, How a Rose E'er Blooming
Lo, how a rose e'er blooming
From tender stem hath sprung,
Of Jesse's lineage coming,
As men of old have sung.
It came a fl ow'ret bright
Amid the cold of winter
When half-spent was the night.
Isaiah 'twas foretold it,
This Rose that I have in mind.
And with Mary we behold it,
The Virgin Mother so sweet and so kind.
To show God's love aright,
She bore to men a Saviour
When half-spent was the night.
7 Cold Song
What power art thou who from below
Hast made me rise unwillingly and slow
From beds of everlasting snow?
See'st thou not how stiff, how stiff and wondrous
old,
Far, far unfi t to bear the bitter cold?
I can scarcely move or draw my breath:
Let me, let me, let me freeze again to death.

. . .


What power art thou who from below
Hast made me unwillingly and slow
From beds of everlasting snow?
See'st thou not how stiff, how stiff and wondrous old,
Far, far unfit to bear the bitter cold?
I can scarcely move or draw my breath;
Let me, let me, let me freeze again to death.

. . .


(Music by Chris Wood, Poem by Robert Southwell)

As I in hoary winter's night
Stood shivering in the snow,
Surprised I was with sudden heat
Which made my heart to glow;
And lifting up a fearful eye
To view what fire was near,
A pretty babe all burning bright
Did in the air appear;
Who, scorched with excessive heat,
Such floods of tears did shed,
As though His floods should quench His flames,
Which with His tears were bred:
'Alas!' quoth He, 'but newly born
In fiery heats I fry,
Yet none approach to warm their hearts
Or feel my fire but I!
'My faultless breast the furnace is;
The fuel, wounding thorns;
Love is the fire, and sighs the smoke;
Found on OldieLyrics.com The ashes, shames and scorns;
The fuel Justice layeth on,
And Mercy blows the coals,
The metal in this furnace wrought
Are men's defiled souls:
For which, as now on fire I am
To work them to their good,
So will I melt into a bath,
To wash them in my blood.'
With this He vanish'd out of sight
And swiftly shrunk away,
And straight I called unto mind
That it was Christmas Day.

. . .


(Music by Henry Purcell, Lyrics by Elkanah Settle, Arranged by Sting)

Now Winter comes slowly, Pale, Meager, and Old,
First trembling with Age, and then quiv'ring with Cold;
Benum'd with hard Frosts, and with Snow cover'd o'er,
Prays the Sun to Restore him, and Sings as before.

. . .



Mercury falling
I rise from my bed
Collect my thoughts together
I have to hold my head
It seems that she's gone
And somehow I am pinned by
The Hounds of Winter
Howling in the wind

I walk through the day
My coat around my ears
I look for my companion
I have to dry my tears
It seems that she's gone
Leaving me too soon
I'm as dark as December
I'm as cold as the Man in the Moon

I still see her face
As beautiful as day
It's easy to remember
Remember my love that way
All I hear is that lonesome sound
The Hounds of Winter
They follow me down

I can't make up the fire
The way that she could
I spend all my days
In the search for dry wood
Board all the windows and close the front door
I can't believe she won't be here anymore

I still see her face
As beautiful as day
It's easy to remember
Remember my love that way
All I hear is that lonesome sound
The Hounds of Winter
They follow me down

A season for joy
A season for sorrow
Where she's gone
I will surely, surely follow
She brightened my day
She warmed the coldest night
The Hounds of Winter
They got me in their sights

I still see her face
As beautiful as day
It's easy to remember
Remember my love that way
All I hear is that lonesome, lonesome sound
The Hounds of Winter

. . .


I come from hevin which to tell
The best nowells that e'er befell
To you thir tythings trew I bring
And I will of them say and sing.

This day to you is born ane child
Of Marie meik and Virgin mild
That bliss it bairn bening and kind
Sall you rejoice baith hart and mind.

Lat us rejoyis and be blyth
And with the Hyrdis go full swyth
And see what God fo his grace hes done
Throu Christ to bring us to his throne

My saull and life stand up and see
Wha lyis in ane cribbe of tree
What Babe is that, sa gude and fair
It is Christ, God's Son and Air.

O my deir hart, yung Jesus sweit
Prepair thy creddil in my spreit!
And I sall rock thee in my hart
And never mair fra thee depart.

But I sall praise thee evermoir
With sangis sweit unto thy gloir
The kneis of my hart sall I bow
And sing that rycht Balulalow.

. . .


When Joseph was an old man,
An old man was he,
He married Virgin Mary,
The Queen of Galilee,
He married Virgin Mary,
The Queen of Galilee.

As Joseph and Mary
Walked through an orchard green,
There were apples and cherries
Plenty there to be seen,
There were apples and cherries
Plenty there to be seen.

Then Mary spoke to Joseph,
So meek and so mild,
"Joseph, gather me some cherries,
For I am with Child,
Joseph, gather me some cherries,
For I am with Child."

Then Joseph flew in anger,
In anger flew he,
"Let the father of the baby
Gather cherries for thee,
Let the father of the baby
Gather cherries for thee."

Then Jesus spoke a few words,
A few words spoke He,
"Let my mother have some cherries,
Bow low down, cherry tree,
Let my mother have some cherries,
Bow low down, cherry tree."

The cherry tree bowed low down,
Bowed low down to the ground,
And Mary gathered cherries,
While Joseph stood around,
And Mary gathered cherries,
While Joseph stood around.

Then Joseph took Mary
All on his right knee:
"Oh, what have I done, Lord?
Have mercy on me.
Oh, what have I done, Lord?
Have mercy on me."

Then Joseph took Mary
All on his left knee:
"Oh, tell me, little Baby,
When Thy Birthday will be,
Oh, tell me, little Baby,
When Thy Birthday will be."

"On the fifth day of January
My Birthday will be,
When the stars and the elements
Shall tremble with fear,
When the stars and the elements
Shall tremble with fear."

. . .


Hush child
Let your mommy sleep in to the night until we rise
Hush child
Let me soothe the shining tears that gather in your eyes

Hush child
I won't leave I'll stay with you to cross this Bridge of Sighs
Hush child
I can't help the look of accusation in your eyes
In your eyes

The world is broken now
All in sorrow
Wise men hang their heads

Hush child
Let your mommy sleep in to the night until we rise
Hush child
All the strength I'll need to fight, I'll find inside your eyes
In your eyes

. . .


(Donovan)

Thrown like a star in my vast sleep
I open my eyes to take a peep
To find that I was by the sea
Gazing with tranquility

'Twas then when the hurdy gurdy man
Came singing songs of love
Then when the hurdy gurdy man
Came singing songs of love

Hurdy gurdy, hurdy gurdy, hurdy gurdy gurdy he sang
Hurdy gurdy, hurdy gurdy, hurdy gurdy gurdy he sang
Hurdy gurdy, hurdy gurdy, hurdy gurdy gurdy he sang

Histories of ages past
Unenlightened shadows cast
Down through all eternity
The crying of humanity

'Tis then when the hurdy gurdy man
Comes singing songs of love
Then when the hurdy gurdy man
Comes singing songs of love

Hurdy gurdy, hurdy gurdy, hurdy gurdy gurdy he sang
Hurdy gurdy, hurdy gurdy, hurdy gurdy, hurdy gurdy hurdy gurd
Hurdy gurdy, hurdy gurdy, hurdy gurdy gurdy he sang

Hurdy gurdy, hurdy gurdy, hurdy gurdy gurdy he sang
Here comes the roly-poly man
He's singing songs of love
Roly poly, roly poly, roly poly poly he sang
Hurdy gurdy, hurdy gurdy, hurdy gurdy gurdy he sang
Hurdy gurdy, hurdy gurdy, hurdy gurdy gurdy he sang
Roly poly, roly poly, roly poly poly he sang

. . .


Always this winter child,
December's sun sits low against the sky
Cold light on frozen fields,
The cattle in their stable lowing.

When two walked this winter road,
Ten thousand miles seemed nothing to us then,
Now one walks with heavy tread
The space between their footsteps slowing

All day the snow did fall,
What's left of the day is close drawn in,
I speak your name as if you'd answer me,
But the silence of the snow is deafening

How well do I recall our arguments,
Our logic owed no debts or recompense,
Philosophy and faith were ghosts
That we would chase until
The gates of heaven were broken

But something makes me turn, I don't know,
To see another's footsteps there in the snow,
I smile to myself and then I wonder why it is
You only cross my mind in winter

. . .


When he is King we will give him the Kings' gifts,
Myrrh for its sweetness, and gold for a crown,
Beautiful robes," said the young girl to Joseph,
Fair with her first-born on Bethlehem Down.

Bethlehem Down is full of the starlight -
Winds for the spices, and stars for the gold,
Mary for sleep, and for lullaby music
Songs of a shepherd by Bethlehem fold.

When he is King they will clothe him in grave-sheets,
Myrrh for embalming, and wood for a crown,
He that lies now in the white arms of Mary,
Sleeping so lightly on Bethlehem Down.
Found on OldieLyrics.com
Here he has peace and a short while for dreaming,
Close-huddled oxen to keep him from cold,
Mary for love, and for lullaby music
Songs of a shepherd by Bethlehem fold.

. . .


(William Blake)

Sweet dreams form a shade,
O'er my lovely infants head.
Sweet dreams of pleasant streams,
By happy silent moony beams

Sweet sleep with soft down.
Weave thy brows an infant crown.
Sweet sleep Angel mild,
Hover o'er my happy child.

Sweet smiles in the night,
Hover over my delight.
Sweet smiles Mothers smiles,
All the livelong night beguiles.

Sweet moans, dovelike sighs,
Chase not slumber from thy eyes,
Sweet moans, sweeter smiles,
All the dovelike moans beguiles.

Sleep sleep happy child,
All creation slept and smil'd.
Sleep sleep, happy sleep.
While o'er thee thy mother weep

Sweet babe in thy face,
Holy image I can trace.
Sweet babe once like thee.
Thy maker lay and wept for me

Wept for me for thee for all,
When he was an infant small.
Thou his image ever see.
Heavenly face that smiles on thee,

Smiles on thee on me on all,
Who became an infant small,
Infant smiles are His own smiles,
Heaven & earth to peace beguiles.

. . .

The Coventry Carol

[No lyrics]

. . .


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