Five Beautiful Carols That Capture The Anticipation Of Advent

Children are experts at practicing anticipation.

“When I’m big,” they tell us before launching into elaborate and unrealistic dreams for the future. “How many days ’til I’m 6?” they ask curiously, the day after they’ve turned 5. “How many days ’til Christmas?” they query as our neighbors deck their homes with light shows and Mom and Dad’s closet becomes off-limits. 

Then, sometime before high school, they lose the gift. Adults, after all, can’t run around the house chanting, “It’s the eve of the eve of the eve of the eve of Christmas Eve!” 

It’s a somewhat bitter reality that clashes with the spirit of these weeks before Christmas; after all, the whole point of Advent — the candles, the Jesse Tree, the music — is to remember that original centuries-long wait for the Messiah. 

Most of us adults, distracted by gift purchasing, meal planning, and early Christmas partying during these weeks, may find we need a little help getting into the Advent mood. What better way to do that than to explore some of the beautiful carols dedicated to this season? Here are five carols you might not have heard of to help you get into the Advent spirit.

‘Adam Lay Ybounden’

There’s something beautifully touching about the simple carols left to us by our ancestors in the English language. With its quaint spellings and abrupt grammatical tendencies, “Adam Lay Ybounden,” is one of those carols that consistently elicits goosebumps.

The hymn’s theme is simple. It reminds its listeners of Adam’s original transgression in the Garden of Eden. It then remarks, in an optimistic fashion:

Ne hadde the appil take ben,
The appil taken ben,
Ne hadde never our lady
A ben hevene queen.
Blessed be the time
That appil take was.
Therefore we moun singer
“Deo gracias.”

In just a few lines, our unnamed English poet manages to capture the Christian understanding of the fall of man. Yes, Adam’s fall plunged the world into darkness for centuries, but had he not made that first transgression, the blessed history of salvation could not have occurred. 

There would be no prophets, no kings, no manger, and no angels dazzling the eyes of simple shepherds on that Bethlehem night. The world would not have needed a Savior, and God might not have become man. As one Christian text from Easter puts it, “Oh happy fault that merited for us such a Savior.” 

‘O Savior, Rend the Heavens Wide’

For some reason, German Advent carols are among the most beautiful. The Lutheran habit of taking biblical passages and translating them loosely into German before setting them to music lends itself well to creating poignant hymns that effectively capture the spirit of the season. 

In the case of “O Savior, Rend the Heavens Wide,” the author seems to have taken inspiration from the Catholic Advent chant “Rorate Coeli” (taken from Isaias 48:5). That text reads, “Let dew fall from the heavens above, let clouds rain down justice; let the earth open and bring forth a Savior.” 

The 17th-century German hymn loosely paraphrases that original text: 

O Savior, rend the heavens wide;
Come down, come down with mighty stride;
Unlock the gates, the doors break down;
Unbar the way to heaven’s crown.

There is something strikingly violent about the idea of our Savior rending (or, in some translations, “tearing”) the heavens and breaking down the gates shut by Adam’s fall from grace — a violence that almost feels inappropriate given that we are preparing ourselves for the coming of the Prince of Peace.

It is, however, fitting considering that this time of year isn’t just about preparing for the anniversary of a great feast, it’s also about remembering Christ’s promise that He would come again in glory to judge the world.

‘Savior of the Nations Come’

“Savior of the Nations Come” is yet another popular German carol inspired by older Latin Advent hymns. It’s a vernacular setting of “Veni Redemptor Omnium,” allegedly written by Ambrose of Milan in the 4th century, making it one of the oldest Advent carols we have. Martin Luther is responsible for the German setting, “Nun Komm der Heiden Heiland.” The hymn later made its way into English hymnals.

Like the original Latin hymn, “Savior of the Nations Come” manages to span both Advent and Christmas in its theme. It begins by marveling over the fact that God chose to enter the world through the womb of a virgin. Then, as though the author was impatient to share the inevitable good news with us, he exclaims, “Wondrous birth, oh wondrous child,” and later prays, “Now your lowly manger bright/ Hallows night with newborn light.”

‘Tomorrow Shall Be My Dancing Day’

Like many English carols, no one is exactly sure who wrote “Tomorrow Shall Be My Dancing Day,” although most people agree it’s older than the 19th-century hymnal where it first appeared. A popular theory (which comes from the text) is that it comes to us from medieval mystery plays, which would have been put on in town squares in the weeks leading up to the Christmas feast. 

The song is totally unique in that it’s a narration of Christ’s life from His perspective. While most choirs don’t usually sing anything more than the verses dedicated specifically to the mystery of the incarnation, the song walks through the baptism in the Jordan, the passion, Christ’s resurrection, and ends with his ascension into heaven. 

Perhaps inspired by the “Canticle of Canticles” or mystics and writers like Teresa of Avila or Thomas à Kempis, the song frames the story of salvation as one long courtship of the beloved by the Divine Lover. 

Tomorrow shall be my dancing day;
I would my true love did so chance 
To see the legend of my play, To call my true love to my dance;
Sing, oh! my love, oh! my love, my love, my love, This have I done for my true love.

‘Veni, Veni Emmanuel’

No list of Advent carols would be complete without “Veni, Veni Emmanuel.” 

The text of this beloved hymn is loosely based on a collection of chant hymns sung during the Divine Office in the days leading up to Christmas beginning on Dec. 17. Known as the “O Antiphons,” these ancient meditations are designed to prepare us for the imminent coming feast. 

O come, O come, Immanuel,
And ransom captive Israel
That mourns in lonely exile here
Until the Son of God appear.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Immanuel
Shall come to you, O Israel.

The haunting melody comes from a 15th-century French missal and was originally intended for use during funeral processions (with a different text, of course). While it’s probably just an accident of history that this tune and text were ever combined, there’s something fitting about a world enveloped in death and darkness calling out for the coming Messiah with a funerary melody. 

It’s even more appropriate when you consider that, for that Messiah to accomplish His salvific mission, He had to descend to the grave. Even before the Divine Child is born, we begin mourning His death around our dinner tables while lighting candles in eager anticipation of that silent night in Bethlehem.

Aubrey Gulick is a former Intercollegiate Studies Institute fellow and a regular contributor at The American Spectator. A Hillsdale grad, she enjoys writing about history, music, and the intersection of technology and ethics. You can follow her on X @AubGulick.