The Darkest Midnight in December is one of the thirteen Kilmore Carols. Kilmore is a village in Wexford County, Ireland. These carols, sung every year in Kilmore, are found only in this area and date back 300 years.
The darkest midnight in December,
No snow, no hail, nor winter storm,
Shall hinder us for to remember,
The Babe that on this night was born.
With shepherds we are come to see,
This lovely Infants glorious charms,
Born of a maid as prophets said,
The God of love in Mary’s arms.
Have you not heard the sacred story,
How man was made those seats to fill,
Which the fallen angels lost in glory
By their presumption, pride and will?
They thought us mean for to obtain
Such glorious seats and crowns in heaven,
So through a cheat they got Eve to eat
The fruit, to be avenged on man.
Thus we were lost, our God offended,
The devils triumphing in our shame.
What recompense could be pretended?
No man could ever wipe off the stain.
Till God alone from His high throne
Becoming Man did us restore
Let us rejoice in tuneful voice,
Let Satan tremble and adore,
If by a woman we were wounded.
Another woman brings the cure;
If by a fruit we were confounded.
A tree our safety would procure.
They laughed at man, but if they can
Let Satan with his hellish swarms
Refuse to kneel and honour yield
To the lovely Babe in Mary’s arms.
Ye blessed angels join our voices
Let your gilded wings beat fluttering over,
Whilst every st~til set free rejoices,
And every devil must adore.
We’ll sing and pray that He always may
Our Church and clergyman defend,
God grant us grace in all our days,
A merry Christmas and a happy end.