The holly and the ivy,
When they are both full grown,
Of all trees that are in the wood,
The holly bears the crown:

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O, the rising of the sun,
And the running of the deer
The playing of the merry organ,
Sweet singing in the choir.

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The holly bears a blossom,
As white as lily flow'r,
And Mary bore sweet Jesus Christ,
To be our dear Saviour:

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O, the rising of the sun,
And the running of the deer
The playing of the merry organ,
Sweet singing in the choir.

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The holly bears a berry,
As red as any blood,
And Mary bore sweet Jesus Christ,
To do poor sinners good:

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O, the rising of the sun,
And the running of the deer
The playing of the merry organ,
Sweet singing in the choir.

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The holly bears a prickle,
As sharp as any thorn,
And Mary bore sweet Jesus Christ,
On Christmas Day in the morn:

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O, the rising of the sun,
And the running of the deer
The playing of the merry organ,
Sweet singing in the choir.

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The holly bears a bark,
As bitter as any gall,
And Mary bore sweet Jesus Christ,
For to redeem us all:

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O, the rising of the sun,
And the running of the deer
The playing of the merry organ,
Sweet singing in the choir.