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Jakie kolędy i pastorałki najczęściej śpiewa się w Wielkiej Brytanii i USA. Należą do nich z pewnością trzy utwory:
- Good King Wenceslas
- Silent Night
- We wish you a Merry Christmas
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We wish you a Merry Christmas
We wish you a Merry Christmas,
We wish you a Merry Christmas,
We wish you a Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year!
Good tidings we bring to you and your kin
.We wish you a merry Christmas
And a Happy New Year!
Oh, bring us some figgy pudding,
Oh, bring us some figgy pudding,
Oh, bring us some figgy pudding, and bring it right here!
Good tidings we bring to you and your kin.
We wish you a Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year!
We won’t go until we get some,
We won’t go until we get some
We won’t go until we get some, so bring it right here!
Good tidings we bring to you and your kin.
We wish you a Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year!
We all like our figgy pudding,
We all like our figgy pudding,
We all like our figgy pudding, with all its good cheer!
Good tidings we bring to you and your kin.
We wish you a Merry Christmas
And a Happy New Year!
We wish you a Merry Christmas,
We wish you a Merry Christmas,
We wish you a Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year!
Silent Night
Silent night, holy night
All is calm, all is bright
’Round yon virgin Mother and Child
Holy infant so tender and mild
Sleep in heavenly peace
Sleep in heavenly peace
Silent night, holy night!
Shepherds quake at the sight!
Glories stream from heaven afar;
Heavenly hosts sing Al-le-lu-ia!
Christ the Savior is born!
Christ the Savior is born!
Silent night, holy night
Son of God, oh, love’s pure light
Radiant beams from Thy holy face
With the dawn of redeeming grace J
esus, Lord at Thy birth
Jesus, Lord at Thy birth
Silent night, holy night
All is calm, all is bright
’Round yon virgin Mother and Child
Holy infant so tender and mild
Sleep in heavenly peace
Sleep in heavenly peace
Good King Wenceslas
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
Gathering winter fuel
Hither, page, and stand by me,
If thou knowst 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 shall see him dine
When we bear them thither.
Page and monarch, forth they went
Forth they went together
Through the rude winds 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, good my page
Tread thou in them boldly
Thou shall find the winters rage
Freeze thy blood less coldly.
In his masters step 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.
