The holly and the ivy, now both are full well grown,
Of all the trees that are in the wood, the holly bears the crown.
Oh, the rising of the sun
and the running of the deer,
The playing of the merry organ,
sweet singing in the choir.
The holly bears a blossom as white as lily flower,
And Mary bore sweet Jesus Christ to be our sweet saviour
Oh, the rising of the sun
and the running of the deer,
The playing of the merry organ,
sweet singing in the choir.
The holly bears a berry as red as any blood,
And Mary bore sweet Jesus Christ to do poor sinners good.
Oh, the rising of the sun
and the running of the deer,
The playing of the merry organ,
sweet singing in the choir.
The holly bears a prickle as sharp as any thorn,
And Mary bore sweet Jesus Christ on Christmas Day in the morn.
Oh, the rising of the sun
and the running of the deer,
The playing of the merry organ,
sweet singing in the choir.
The holly bears a bark as bitter as any gall,
And Mary bore sweet Jesus Christ for to redeem us all.
Oh, the rising of the sun
and the running of the deer,
The playing of the merry organ,
sweet singing in the choir.