| |
| SO now is come our joyful’st feast; | |
| Let every man be jolly; | |
| Each room with ivy-leaves is drest, | |
| And every post with holly. | |
| Though some churls at our mirth repine, | 5 |
| Round your foreheads garlands twine, | |
| Drown sorrow in a cup of wine, | |
| And let us all be merry. | |
| |
| Now all our neighbors’ chimneys smoke, | |
| And Christmas blocks are burning; | 10 |
| Their ovens they with baked meat choke, | |
| And all their spits are turning. | |
| Without the door let sorrow lie; | |
| And if for cold it hap to die, | |
| We ’ll bury ’t in a Christmas pie, | 15 |
| And evermore be merry. | |
| |
| Now every lad is wond’rous trim, | |
| And no man minds his labor; | |
| Our lasses have provided them | |
| A bagpipe and a tabor; | 20 |
| Young men and maids, and girls and boys, | |
| Give life to one another’s joys; | |
| And you anon shall by their noise | |
| Perceive that they are merry. | |
| |
| Rank misers now do sparing shun— | 25 |
| Their hall of music soundeth; | |
| And dogs thence with whole shoulders run, | |
| So all things there aboundeth. | |
| The country folks themselves advance, | |
| With crowdy-muttons out of France; | 30 |
| And Jack shall pipe, and Gill shall dance, | |
| And all the town be merry. | |
| |
| Ned Squash has fetched his bands from pawn, | |
| And all his best apparel; | |
| Brisk Nell hath bought a ruff of lawn | 35 |
| With dropping of the barrel; | |
| And those that hardly all the year | |
| Had bread to eat, or rags to wear, | |
| Will have both clothes and dainty fare, | |
| And all the day be merry. | 40 |
| |
| Now poor men to the justices | |
| With capons make their errants; | |
| And if they hap to fail of these, | |
| They plague them with their warrants: | |
| But now they feed them with good cheer, | 45 |
| And what they want they take in beer; | |
| For Christmas comes but once a year, | |
| And then they shall be merry. | |
| |
| Good farmers in the country nurse | |
| The poor, that else were undone; | 50 |
| Some landlords spend their money worse, | |
| On lust and pride at London. | |
| There the roysters they do play, | |
| Drab and dice their lands away, | |
| Which may be ours another day, | 55 |
| And therefore let ’s be merry. | |
| |
| The client now his suit forbears; | |
| The prisoner’s heart is eased; | |
| The debtor drinks away his cares, | |
| And for the time is pleased. | 60 |
| Though others’ purses be more fat, | |
| Why should we pine or grieve at that? | |
| Hang sorrow! Care will kill a cat, | |
| And therefore let ’s be merry. | |
| |
| Hark! now the wags abroad do call | 65 |
| Each other forth to rambling; | |
| Anon you ’ll see them in the hall, | |
| For nuts and apples scrambling. | |
| Hark! how the roofs with laughter sound! | |
| Anon they ’ll think the house goes round, | 70 |
| For they the cellar’s depths have found, | |
| And there they will be merry. | |
| |
| The wenches with their wassail bowls | |
| About the streets are singing; | |
| The boys are come to catch the owls | 75 |
| The wild mare in is bringing, | |
| Our kitchen boy hath broke his box; | |
| And to the dealing of the ox | |
| Our honest neighbors come by flocks, | |
| And here they will be merry. | 80 |
| |
| Now kings and queens poor sheepcotes have, | |
| And mate with everybody; | |
| The honest now may play the knave, | |
| And wise men play the noddy. | |
| Some youths will now a mumming go, | 85 |
| Some others play at Rowland-bo, | |
| And twenty other game boys mo, | |
| Because they will be merry. | |
| |
| Then wherefore, in these merry days, | |
| Should we, I pray, be duller? | 90 |
| No, let us sing some roundelays, | |
| To make our mirth the fuller; | |
| And while we thus inspirèd sing, | |
| Let all the streets with echoes ring; | |
| Woods and hills and every thing, | 95 |
| Bear witness we are merry! | |
| |
