Roráte cæli désuper, et nubes pluant iustum: aperiátur terra, et gérminet Salvatórem.

This muggy Sunday at All Saints Ainslie we sang Prätorius' Es ist ein Ros' entsprungen under my direction. There was also a memorial minute of silence for the victims of the horrific Bondi shooting in Sydney last Sunday.

Es ist ein Ros entsprungen,	There is a rose up-springing,
aus einer Wurzel zart,	from a tender root,
wie uns die Alten sungen,	as the ancients have sung,
von Jesse kam die Art	it comes from Jesse's branch.
und hat ein Blümlein bracht	Its blossom flowering bright,
mitten im kalten Winter,	amidst the cold winter,
wohl zu der halben Nacht.	when half the night remains.
Das Röslein, das ich meine,	This little rose of which I sing,
davon Jesaja sagt,	of which Isaiah spoke,
hat uns gebracht alleine	was brought to us solely by
Marie, die reine Magd.	Mary, the pure maiden.
Aus Gottes ew'gem Rat	By God's eternal plan,
hat sie ein Kind geboren	a child was born to her
und blieb doch reine Magd.	but she remained a pure Maiden.
Das Blümelein so kleine,	That little blossom, so tiny,
das duftet uns so süß,	that to us smells so sweet,
mit seinem hellen Scheine	with its bright shining
Vertreibt's die Finsternis.	drives away the darkness.
Wahr' Mensch und wahrer Gott,	True man and truer God,
hilft uns aus allem Leide,	He aids us from all suffering,
rettet von Sünd und Tod.	and saves us from sin and death.

Edit: I tuned in to the mass at my old haunt St. Michael and All Saints and discovered that they sang the same anthem (but in English). Nice bit of synchronicity.

Edit 2: I also forgot to mention that last Wednesday, three of us also went to the Goodwin Retirement Village in Ainslie to sing for the Christmas service they held in their chapel, where we sang the Coventry Carol:

Lully, lullay, þow littell tyne childe,

by, by, lully, lullay.

þow littell tyne childe:

by, by, lully, lullay.

O! Sisters too, how may we do

for to preserve this day

this pore yongling for whom we do singe:

by, by, lully, lullay?

Herod, the king, in his raging,

chargid he hath this day,

his men of might in his owne sight,

all yonge children to slay.

That wo is me, pore childe, for Thee

and ever morne and day

for thi parting nether say nor singe:

by, by, lully, lullay.