Hence the extremer Puritans were completely out of
touch with the sensuous poetry of Christmas, a festival which, as we
shall see, they actually suppressed when they came into power.
The singing of sacred carols by country people continued, indeed, but the
creative artistic impulse was lost. True carols after the Reformation
tend to be doggerel, and no doubt many of the traditional pieces printed
in such collections as Bramley and Stainer's[33]{37} are debased
survivals from the Middle Ages, or perhaps new words written for old
tunes. Such carols as "God rest you merry, gentlemen," have unspeakably
delightful airs, and the words charm us moderns by their quaintness and
rusticity, but they are far from the exquisite loveliness of the
mediaeval |78| things. Gleams of great beauty are, however, sometimes
found amid matter that in the process of transmission has almost ceased
to be poetry. Here, for instance, are five stanzas from the traditional
"Cherry-tree Carol":--
"As Joseph was a-walking,
He heard an angel sing:
'This night shall be born
Our heavenly King.
'He neither shall be born
In housen nor in hall,
Nor in the place of Paradise,
But in an ox's stall.
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