Gloria in altissimis
For nowe is borne the King of Blis

When Criste was borne, an angell bright
To shepherdes keeping shepe that nyght
Came and seyde with heav’nly light
‘Now Crist is borne, the King of Blis.’

They dred gretely of that same light
That shone so bright that tyme of nygyt
Through the vertu, the grace, and myght
Of Goddes Son, the King of Blis

The angell seyde, ‘Drede ye nothing;
Beholde, to you grete joye I bringe
And unto alle that be lyving
For now is born the King of Blis.’

‘Go to Bethlem, and there ye shall
With Marie mylde in an oxe stall
Fynde an infante that men shall call
The Son of God and King of Blis.’

They went forth to Bethlehem that stounde
And, as he tolde, a childe they founde
In an ox stall in ragges wounde
The Son of God and King of Blis
The shepherdes they went home ageyn
Magnifying God, in certayne
In alle that they had heard and seyn
Of Goddes Sonne, the King of Blis

On Twelfth Daye came kinges three
With golde, incense, and myrrh so free
Unto Bethlem to seek and see
The Sonne of God and King of Blis

Gloria in altissimis
For nowe is borne the King of Blis