POEMS ON CHRISTMAS MERRY-MAKING

NOWELL, Nowell, Nowell, Nowell.‘Who is there that singeth sonowell, nowell, nowell?’‘I am here, Sir Christmas.’‘Welcome, my lord Sir Christmas.Welcome to us both more and less,Come near.’Nowell.‘Dieu vous garde, beau sire. Tidings I you bring;A maid hath born a Child full ying[34]The which causeth for to singNowell.‘Christ is now born of a pure maid;In an ox-stall he is laid:Wherefore sing we all at a brayde[35]Nowell.‘Beuvez bien par tutte la company,Make good cheer and be right merry;And sing with us now right joyfully,Nowell.’

NOWELL, Nowell, Nowell, Nowell.‘Who is there that singeth sonowell, nowell, nowell?’

NOWELL, Nowell, Nowell, Nowell.

‘Who is there that singeth sonowell, nowell, nowell?’

‘I am here, Sir Christmas.’‘Welcome, my lord Sir Christmas.Welcome to us both more and less,Come near.’Nowell.

‘I am here, Sir Christmas.’

‘Welcome, my lord Sir Christmas.

Welcome to us both more and less,

Come near.’Nowell.

‘Dieu vous garde, beau sire. Tidings I you bring;A maid hath born a Child full ying[34]The which causeth for to singNowell.

‘Dieu vous garde, beau sire. Tidings I you bring;

A maid hath born a Child full ying[34]

The which causeth for to sing

Nowell.

‘Christ is now born of a pure maid;In an ox-stall he is laid:Wherefore sing we all at a brayde[35]Nowell.

‘Christ is now born of a pure maid;

In an ox-stall he is laid:

Wherefore sing we all at a brayde[35]

Nowell.

‘Beuvez bien par tutte la company,Make good cheer and be right merry;And sing with us now right joyfully,Nowell.’

‘Beuvez bien par tutte la company,

Make good cheer and be right merry;

And sing with us now right joyfully,

Nowell.’

[34]Young.

[35]At once.

MAN, be joyful and mirth thou make,For Christ is made man for thy sake.Man, be merry, I thee rede,But be ware what mirths thou make:Christ is clothèd in thy weedAnd He is made man for thy sake.He came from His Father’s seat,Into this world to be thy make;Man, be ware how thou Him treat,For He is made man for thy sake.Look thou mercy ever cry,Now and alway, rathe and late,And He will set thee wonder high,For He is made man for thy sake.

MAN, be joyful and mirth thou make,For Christ is made man for thy sake.

MAN, be joyful and mirth thou make,

For Christ is made man for thy sake.

Man, be merry, I thee rede,But be ware what mirths thou make:Christ is clothèd in thy weedAnd He is made man for thy sake.

Man, be merry, I thee rede,

But be ware what mirths thou make:

Christ is clothèd in thy weed

And He is made man for thy sake.

He came from His Father’s seat,Into this world to be thy make;Man, be ware how thou Him treat,For He is made man for thy sake.

He came from His Father’s seat,

Into this world to be thy make;

Man, be ware how thou Him treat,

For He is made man for thy sake.

Look thou mercy ever cry,Now and alway, rathe and late,And He will set thee wonder high,For He is made man for thy sake.

Look thou mercy ever cry,

Now and alway, rathe and late,

And He will set thee wonder high,

For He is made man for thy sake.

MAKE we merry, both more and lessFor now is the time of Christëmas!Let no man come into this hall,Groom, page, nor yet marshall,But that some sport he bring withal!For now is the time of Christëmas!If that he say he cannot sing,Some other sport then let him bring,That it may please at this feasting.For now is the time of Christëmas!If he say he can nought do,Then for my love ask him no mo,But to the stocks then let him go!For now is the time of Christëmas!

MAKE we merry, both more and lessFor now is the time of Christëmas!

MAKE we merry, both more and less

For now is the time of Christëmas!

Let no man come into this hall,Groom, page, nor yet marshall,But that some sport he bring withal!For now is the time of Christëmas!

Let no man come into this hall,

Groom, page, nor yet marshall,

But that some sport he bring withal!

For now is the time of Christëmas!

If that he say he cannot sing,Some other sport then let him bring,That it may please at this feasting.For now is the time of Christëmas!

If that he say he cannot sing,

Some other sport then let him bring,

That it may please at this feasting.

For now is the time of Christëmas!

If he say he can nought do,Then for my love ask him no mo,But to the stocks then let him go!For now is the time of Christëmas!

If he say he can nought do,

Then for my love ask him no mo,

But to the stocks then let him go!

For now is the time of Christëmas!

HOLLY and Ivy made a great party,Who should have the masteryIn landës where they go.Then spake Holly, ‘I am free and jolly.I will have the masteryIn landës where we go.’Then spake Ivy, ‘I am loud and proud,And I will have the mastery,In landës where we go.’Then spake Holly, and set him down on his knee,‘I pray thee, gentle Ivy,Say me no villainy,In landës where we go.’

HOLLY and Ivy made a great party,Who should have the masteryIn landës where they go.

HOLLY and Ivy made a great party,

Who should have the mastery

In landës where they go.

Then spake Holly, ‘I am free and jolly.I will have the masteryIn landës where we go.’

Then spake Holly, ‘I am free and jolly.

I will have the mastery

In landës where we go.’

Then spake Ivy, ‘I am loud and proud,And I will have the mastery,In landës where we go.’

Then spake Ivy, ‘I am loud and proud,

And I will have the mastery,

In landës where we go.’

Then spake Holly, and set him down on his knee,‘I pray thee, gentle Ivy,Say me no villainy,In landës where we go.’

Then spake Holly, and set him down on his knee,

‘I pray thee, gentle Ivy,

Say me no villainy,

In landës where we go.’

ALLELUIA, Alleluia,Alleluia, now sing we.Here comes holly, that is so gent,To please all men is his intent.Alleluia.But lord and lady of this hall,Who so ever against holly call,Alleluia.Who so ever against holly do cry,In a lepe[36]shall he hang full high.Alleluia.Who so ever against holly do sing,He may weep and handës wring.Alleluia.

ALLELUIA, Alleluia,Alleluia, now sing we.

ALLELUIA, Alleluia,

Alleluia, now sing we.

Here comes holly, that is so gent,To please all men is his intent.Alleluia.

Here comes holly, that is so gent,

To please all men is his intent.

Alleluia.

But lord and lady of this hall,Who so ever against holly call,Alleluia.

But lord and lady of this hall,

Who so ever against holly call,

Alleluia.

Who so ever against holly do cry,In a lepe[36]shall he hang full high.Alleluia.

Who so ever against holly do cry,

In a lepe[36]shall he hang full high.

Alleluia.

Who so ever against holly do sing,He may weep and handës wring.Alleluia.

Who so ever against holly do sing,

He may weep and handës wring.

Alleluia.

[36]Basket.

IVY chief of trees it is,Veni coronaberis.The most worthy she is in town;He that saith other, doth amiss:And worthy to bear the crown;Veni coronaberis.Ivy is soft and meek of speech,Against all bale she is bliss;Well is he that may her reach;Veni coronaberis.Ivy is green, with colour bright,Of all trees best she is;And that I prove well now by right.Veni coronaberis.Ivy beareth berries black;God grant us all his bliss!For there shall we nothing lack.Veni coronaberis.

IVY chief of trees it is,Veni coronaberis.

IVY chief of trees it is,

Veni coronaberis.

The most worthy she is in town;He that saith other, doth amiss:And worthy to bear the crown;Veni coronaberis.

The most worthy she is in town;

He that saith other, doth amiss:

And worthy to bear the crown;

Veni coronaberis.

Ivy is soft and meek of speech,Against all bale she is bliss;Well is he that may her reach;Veni coronaberis.

Ivy is soft and meek of speech,

Against all bale she is bliss;

Well is he that may her reach;

Veni coronaberis.

Ivy is green, with colour bright,Of all trees best she is;And that I prove well now by right.Veni coronaberis.

Ivy is green, with colour bright,

Of all trees best she is;

And that I prove well now by right.

Veni coronaberis.

Ivy beareth berries black;God grant us all his bliss!For there shall we nothing lack.Veni coronaberis.

Ivy beareth berries black;

God grant us all his bliss!

For there shall we nothing lack.

Veni coronaberis.

NAY, ivy, nay,It shall not be, i-wis;[37]Let holly have the mastery,As the manner is.Holly stands in the hall,Fair to behold;Ivy stands without the door,She is full sore a-cold.Nay, ivy, nay, &c.Holly and his merry men,They dancen and they sing;Ivy and her maidensThey weepen and they wring.Nay, ivy, nay, &c.Ivy hath a kybe,[38]She caught it with the cold;So mot they all haveThat with ivy hold.Nay, ivy, nay, &c.Holly hath berriesAs red as any rose,The foster[39]{and} the hunterKeep them from the does.Nay, ivy, nay, &c.Ivy hath berriesAs black as any sloe;There come the owlAnd eat them as she go.Nay, ivy, nay, &c.Holly hath birdës,A full fair flock,The nightingale, the popinjay,The gentle laverock.Nay, ivy, nay, &c.Good ivy,What birdës hast thou?None but the howletThat cries ‘how, how.’Nay, ivy, nay,It shall not be, i-wis;Let holly have the mastery,As the manner is.

NAY, ivy, nay,It shall not be, i-wis;[37]Let holly have the mastery,As the manner is.

NAY, ivy, nay,

It shall not be, i-wis;[37]

Let holly have the mastery,

As the manner is.

Holly stands in the hall,Fair to behold;Ivy stands without the door,She is full sore a-cold.Nay, ivy, nay, &c.

Holly stands in the hall,

Fair to behold;

Ivy stands without the door,

She is full sore a-cold.

Nay, ivy, nay, &c.

Holly and his merry men,They dancen and they sing;Ivy and her maidensThey weepen and they wring.Nay, ivy, nay, &c.

Holly and his merry men,

They dancen and they sing;

Ivy and her maidens

They weepen and they wring.

Nay, ivy, nay, &c.

Ivy hath a kybe,[38]She caught it with the cold;So mot they all haveThat with ivy hold.Nay, ivy, nay, &c.

Ivy hath a kybe,[38]

She caught it with the cold;

So mot they all have

That with ivy hold.

Nay, ivy, nay, &c.

Holly hath berriesAs red as any rose,The foster[39]{and} the hunterKeep them from the does.Nay, ivy, nay, &c.

Holly hath berries

As red as any rose,

The foster[39]{and} the hunter

Keep them from the does.

Nay, ivy, nay, &c.

Ivy hath berriesAs black as any sloe;There come the owlAnd eat them as she go.Nay, ivy, nay, &c.

Ivy hath berries

As black as any sloe;

There come the owl

And eat them as she go.

Nay, ivy, nay, &c.

Holly hath birdës,A full fair flock,The nightingale, the popinjay,The gentle laverock.Nay, ivy, nay, &c.

Holly hath birdës,

A full fair flock,

The nightingale, the popinjay,

The gentle laverock.

Nay, ivy, nay, &c.

Good ivy,What birdës hast thou?None but the howletThat cries ‘how, how.’

Good ivy,

What birdës hast thou?

None but the howlet

That cries ‘how, how.’

Nay, ivy, nay,It shall not be, i-wis;Let holly have the mastery,As the manner is.

Nay, ivy, nay,

It shall not be, i-wis;

Let holly have the mastery,

As the manner is.

[37]Certainly.

[38]Chilblain.

[39]Forester.

HEY, hey, hey, hey,The boarës head is armed gay.The boarës head in hand I bringWith garland gay in portering,I pray you all with me to sing,With hey, &c.Lordës, knightës, and squïers,Parsons, priestës, and vicars,The boarës head is the first mess,With hey, &c.The boarës head, as I you say,He takes his leave and goeth his wayAnon after the twelfth day,With hey, &c.

HEY, hey, hey, hey,The boarës head is armed gay.

HEY, hey, hey, hey,

The boarës head is armed gay.

The boarës head in hand I bringWith garland gay in portering,I pray you all with me to sing,With hey, &c.

The boarës head in hand I bring

With garland gay in portering,

I pray you all with me to sing,

With hey, &c.

Lordës, knightës, and squïers,Parsons, priestës, and vicars,The boarës head is the first mess,With hey, &c.

Lordës, knightës, and squïers,

Parsons, priestës, and vicars,

The boarës head is the first mess,

With hey, &c.

The boarës head, as I you say,He takes his leave and goeth his wayAnon after the twelfth day,With hey, &c.

The boarës head, as I you say,

He takes his leave and goeth his way

Anon after the twelfth day,

With hey, &c.

CAPUT apri defero,Reddens laudes Domino.The boar’s head in hand bring I,With garlands gay and rosemary;I pray you all sing merrily,Qui estis in convivio.The boar’s head, I understand,Is the chief service in this land;Look, wherever it be fand,Servite cum cantico.Be glad, lords, both more and less,For this hath ordained our steward,To cheer you all this Christmas,The boar’s head with mustard.

CAPUT apri defero,Reddens laudes Domino.

CAPUT apri defero,

Reddens laudes Domino.

The boar’s head in hand bring I,With garlands gay and rosemary;I pray you all sing merrily,Qui estis in convivio.

The boar’s head in hand bring I,

With garlands gay and rosemary;

I pray you all sing merrily,

Qui estis in convivio.

The boar’s head, I understand,Is the chief service in this land;Look, wherever it be fand,Servite cum cantico.

The boar’s head, I understand,

Is the chief service in this land;

Look, wherever it be fand,

Servite cum cantico.

Be glad, lords, both more and less,For this hath ordained our steward,To cheer you all this Christmas,The boar’s head with mustard.

Be glad, lords, both more and less,

For this hath ordained our steward,

To cheer you all this Christmas,

The boar’s head with mustard.

NOWEL, nowel, nowel, nowel,Tidings good I think to tell.The boarës head that we bring hereBetokeneth a prince withouten peerIs born this day to buy us dear.Nowel.A boar is a sovereign beastAnd acceptable in every feast:So mote this Lord be to most and least.Nowel.This boarës head we bring with songIn worship of Him that thus sprungOf a virgin, to redress all wrong.Nowel.

NOWEL, nowel, nowel, nowel,Tidings good I think to tell.

NOWEL, nowel, nowel, nowel,

Tidings good I think to tell.

The boarës head that we bring hereBetokeneth a prince withouten peerIs born this day to buy us dear.Nowel.

The boarës head that we bring here

Betokeneth a prince withouten peer

Is born this day to buy us dear.

Nowel.

A boar is a sovereign beastAnd acceptable in every feast:So mote this Lord be to most and least.Nowel.

A boar is a sovereign beast

And acceptable in every feast:

So mote this Lord be to most and least.

Nowel.

This boarës head we bring with songIn worship of Him that thus sprungOf a virgin, to redress all wrong.Nowel.

This boarës head we bring with song

In worship of Him that thus sprung

Of a virgin, to redress all wrong.

Nowel.

PROFACE,[40]welcome, welcome, proface,This time is born a child of grace,That for us mankind hath take.Proface.A king’s son and an emperorIs comen out of a maiden’s tower,With us to dwell with great honour.Proface.This holy time of Christës-mass,All sorrow and sin we should release,And cast away all heaviness.Proface.The good lord of this place entereSaith welcome to all that now appearUnto such fare as ye find here.Proface.Welcome be this New Year,And look ye all be of good cheer;Our Lord God be at our dinnere.Proface.

PROFACE,[40]welcome, welcome, proface,This time is born a child of grace,That for us mankind hath take.Proface.

PROFACE,[40]welcome, welcome, proface,

This time is born a child of grace,

That for us mankind hath take.

Proface.

A king’s son and an emperorIs comen out of a maiden’s tower,With us to dwell with great honour.Proface.

A king’s son and an emperor

Is comen out of a maiden’s tower,

With us to dwell with great honour.

Proface.

This holy time of Christës-mass,All sorrow and sin we should release,And cast away all heaviness.Proface.

This holy time of Christës-mass,

All sorrow and sin we should release,

And cast away all heaviness.

Proface.

The good lord of this place entereSaith welcome to all that now appearUnto such fare as ye find here.Proface.

The good lord of this place entere

Saith welcome to all that now appear

Unto such fare as ye find here.

Proface.

Welcome be this New Year,And look ye all be of good cheer;Our Lord God be at our dinnere.Proface.

Welcome be this New Year,

And look ye all be of good cheer;

Our Lord God be at our dinnere.

Proface.

[40]i. e.proficiat, may it do you good.

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,Round your foreheads garlands twine;Drown sorrow in a cup of wine,And let us all be merry.Now all our neighbours’ chimneys smoke,And Christmas logs are burning;Their ovens they with baked meats 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,And evermore be merry.Now every lad is wondrous trim,And no man minds his labour;Our lasses have provided themA bagpipe and a tabour;Young men and maids, and girls and boys,Give life to one another’s joys;And you anon shall by their noisePerceive that they are merry.Rank misers now do sparing shun;Their hall of music soundeth;And dogs thence with whole shoulders run,So all things there aboundeth.The country folks themselves advance,For crowdy-mutton’s[41]come out of France;And Jack shall pipe, and Jill shall dance,And all the town be merry.Ned Squash hath fetched his bands from pawn,And all his best apparel;Brisk Ned hath bought a ruff of lawn,With droppings of the barrel.And those that hardly all the yearHad bread to eat or rags to wear,Will have both clothes and dainty fare,And all the day be merry.Now poor men to the justicesWith capons make their arrants,And if they hap to fail of these,They plague them with their warrants.But now they feed them with good cheer,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 nurseThe poor that else were undone;Sour landlords spend their money worseOn lust and pride at London.There the roysters they do play,Drab and dice their lands away,Which may be ours another day;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.Though other 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, how the wags abroad do callEach other forth to rambling:And you’ll see them in the hallFor nuts and apples scrambling.Hark, how the roofs with laughter sound!And they’ll think the house goes round:For they the cellar’s depth have found,And there they will be merry.The wenches with their wassail bowlsAbout the streets are singing;The boys are come to catch the owls,The wildmare[42]in is bringing.Our kitchen-boy hath broke his box,And to the dealing of the oxOur honest neighbours come by flocks,And here they will be merry.Now kings and queens poor sheep-cotes haveAnd mate with everybody:The honest now may play the knave,And wise men play at noddy.[43]Some youths will now a-mumming go,Some others play at Rowland-ho,And twenty other gameboys mo,Because they will be merry.Then wherefore in these merry daysShould we, I pray, be duller?Ho, let us sing some roundelays,To make our mirth the fuller.And whilst thus inspired we sing,Let all the streets with echoes ring,Woods and hills and everythingBear witness we are merry.George Wither

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,

Round your foreheads garlands twine;

Drown sorrow in a cup of wine,

And let us all be merry.

Now all our neighbours’ chimneys smoke,And Christmas logs are burning;Their ovens they with baked meats 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,And evermore be merry.

Now all our neighbours’ chimneys smoke,

And Christmas logs are burning;

Their ovens they with baked meats 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,

And evermore be merry.

Now every lad is wondrous trim,And no man minds his labour;Our lasses have provided themA bagpipe and a tabour;Young men and maids, and girls and boys,Give life to one another’s joys;And you anon shall by their noisePerceive that they are merry.

Now every lad is wondrous trim,

And no man minds his labour;

Our lasses have provided them

A bagpipe and a tabour;

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;Their hall of music soundeth;And dogs thence with whole shoulders run,So all things there aboundeth.The country folks themselves advance,For crowdy-mutton’s[41]come out of France;And Jack shall pipe, and Jill shall dance,And all the town be merry.

Rank misers now do sparing shun;

Their hall of music soundeth;

And dogs thence with whole shoulders run,

So all things there aboundeth.

The country folks themselves advance,

For crowdy-mutton’s[41]come out of France;

And Jack shall pipe, and Jill shall dance,

And all the town be merry.

Ned Squash hath fetched his bands from pawn,And all his best apparel;Brisk Ned hath bought a ruff of lawn,With droppings of the barrel.And those that hardly all the yearHad bread to eat or rags to wear,Will have both clothes and dainty fare,And all the day be merry.

Ned Squash hath fetched his bands from pawn,

And all his best apparel;

Brisk Ned hath bought a ruff of lawn,

With droppings 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.

Now poor men to the justicesWith capons make their arrants,And if they hap to fail of these,They plague them with their warrants.But now they feed them with good cheer,And what they want they take in beer;For Christmas comes but once a year,And then they shall be merry.

Now poor men to the justices

With capons make their arrants,

And if they hap to fail of these,

They plague them with their warrants.

But now they feed them with good cheer,

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 nurseThe poor that else were undone;Sour landlords spend their money worseOn lust and pride at London.There the roysters they do play,Drab and dice their lands away,Which may be ours another day;And therefore let’s be merry.

Good farmers in the country nurse

The poor that else were undone;

Sour 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;

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.Though other 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.

The client now his suit forbears,

The prisoner’s heart is eased;

The debtor drinks away his cares,

And for the time is pleased.

Though other 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, how the wags abroad do callEach other forth to rambling:And you’ll see them in the hallFor nuts and apples scrambling.Hark, how the roofs with laughter sound!And they’ll think the house goes round:For they the cellar’s depth have found,And there they will be merry.

Hark, how the wags abroad do call

Each other forth to rambling:

And you’ll see them in the hall

For nuts and apples scrambling.

Hark, how the roofs with laughter sound!

And they’ll think the house goes round:

For they the cellar’s depth have found,

And there they will be merry.

The wenches with their wassail bowlsAbout the streets are singing;The boys are come to catch the owls,The wildmare[42]in is bringing.Our kitchen-boy hath broke his box,And to the dealing of the oxOur honest neighbours come by flocks,And here they will be merry.

The wenches with their wassail bowls

About the streets are singing;

The boys are come to catch the owls,

The wildmare[42]in is bringing.

Our kitchen-boy hath broke his box,

And to the dealing of the ox

Our honest neighbours come by flocks,

And here they will be merry.

Now kings and queens poor sheep-cotes haveAnd mate with everybody:The honest now may play the knave,And wise men play at noddy.[43]Some youths will now a-mumming go,Some others play at Rowland-ho,And twenty other gameboys mo,Because they will be merry.

Now kings and queens poor sheep-cotes have

And mate with everybody:

The honest now may play the knave,

And wise men play at noddy.[43]

Some youths will now a-mumming go,

Some others play at Rowland-ho,

And twenty other gameboys mo,

Because they will be merry.

Then wherefore in these merry daysShould we, I pray, be duller?Ho, let us sing some roundelays,To make our mirth the fuller.And whilst thus inspired we sing,Let all the streets with echoes ring,Woods and hills and everythingBear witness we are merry.George Wither

Then wherefore in these merry days

Should we, I pray, be duller?

Ho, let us sing some roundelays,

To make our mirth the fuller.

And whilst thus inspired we sing,

Let all the streets with echoes ring,

Woods and hills and everything

Bear witness we are merry.

George Wither

[41]Fiddlers.

[42]? A see-saw.

[43]Cribbage.

COME, bring with a noise,My merry, merry boys,The Christmas log to the firing;While my good dame sheBids ye all be free,And drink to your hearts’ desiring.With the last year’s brandLight the new block, andFor good success in his spending,On your psaltries play,That sweet luck mayCome while the log is a-teending.[44]Drink now the strong beer,Cut the white loaf here;The while the meat is a-shredding;For the rare mince-pie,And the plums stand byTo fill the paste that’s a-kneading.CHRISTMAS EVE: ANOTHER CEREMONYCOME, guard this night the Christmas pie,That the thief, though ne’er so sly,With his flesh-hooks don’t come nighTo catch it.From him, who all alone sits there,Having his eyes still in his earAnd a deal of nightly fear,To watch it.ANOTHER TO THE MAIDSWASH your hands, or else the fireWill not teend to your desire;Unwash’d hands, ye maidens, know,Dead the fire though ye blow.ANOTHERWASSAIL the trees, that they may bearYou many a plum and many a pear;For more or less fruits they will bring,As you do give them wassailing.Robert Herrick

COME, bring with a noise,My merry, merry boys,The Christmas log to the firing;While my good dame sheBids ye all be free,And drink to your hearts’ desiring.

COME, bring with a noise,

My merry, merry boys,

The Christmas log to the firing;

While my good dame she

Bids ye all be free,

And drink to your hearts’ desiring.

With the last year’s brandLight the new block, andFor good success in his spending,On your psaltries play,That sweet luck mayCome while the log is a-teending.[44]

With the last year’s brand

Light the new block, and

For good success in his spending,

On your psaltries play,

That sweet luck may

Come while the log is a-teending.[44]

Drink now the strong beer,Cut the white loaf here;The while the meat is a-shredding;For the rare mince-pie,And the plums stand byTo fill the paste that’s a-kneading.

Drink now the strong beer,

Cut the white loaf here;

The while the meat is a-shredding;

For the rare mince-pie,

And the plums stand by

To fill the paste that’s a-kneading.

CHRISTMAS EVE: ANOTHER CEREMONYCOME, guard this night the Christmas pie,That the thief, though ne’er so sly,With his flesh-hooks don’t come nighTo catch it.

CHRISTMAS EVE: ANOTHER CEREMONY

COME, guard this night the Christmas pie,

That the thief, though ne’er so sly,

With his flesh-hooks don’t come nigh

To catch it.

From him, who all alone sits there,Having his eyes still in his earAnd a deal of nightly fear,To watch it.

From him, who all alone sits there,

Having his eyes still in his ear

And a deal of nightly fear,

To watch it.

ANOTHER TO THE MAIDSWASH your hands, or else the fireWill not teend to your desire;Unwash’d hands, ye maidens, know,Dead the fire though ye blow.

ANOTHER TO THE MAIDS

WASH your hands, or else the fire

Will not teend to your desire;

Unwash’d hands, ye maidens, know,

Dead the fire though ye blow.

ANOTHERWASSAIL the trees, that they may bearYou many a plum and many a pear;For more or less fruits they will bring,As you do give them wassailing.Robert Herrick

ANOTHER

WASSAIL the trees, that they may bear

You many a plum and many a pear;

For more or less fruits they will bring,

As you do give them wassailing.

Robert Herrick

[44]Kindling.

GIVE way, give way, ye gates, and winAn easy blessing to your binAnd basket, by our entering in.May both with manchet[45]stand replete;Your larders too so hung with meat,That though a thousand, thousand eat,Yet, ere twelve moons shall whirl aboutTheir silv’ry spheres, there’s none may doubtBut more’s sent in than was serv’d out.Next may your dairies prosper soAs that your pans no ebb may know;But if they do, the more to flow;Like to a solemn sober streamBank’d all with lilies, and the creamOf sweetest cowslips filling them.Then, may your plants be prest with fruit,Nor bee or hive you have be mute;But sweetly sounding like a lute.Next may your duck and teeming henBoth to the cock’s tread say Amen;And for their two eggs render ten.Last may your harrows, shears, and ploughs,Your stacks, your stocks, your sweetest mows,All prosper by your virgin vows.Robert Herrick

GIVE way, give way, ye gates, and winAn easy blessing to your binAnd basket, by our entering in.

GIVE way, give way, ye gates, and win

An easy blessing to your bin

And basket, by our entering in.

May both with manchet[45]stand replete;Your larders too so hung with meat,That though a thousand, thousand eat,

May both with manchet[45]stand replete;

Your larders too so hung with meat,

That though a thousand, thousand eat,

Yet, ere twelve moons shall whirl aboutTheir silv’ry spheres, there’s none may doubtBut more’s sent in than was serv’d out.

Yet, ere twelve moons shall whirl about

Their silv’ry spheres, there’s none may doubt

But more’s sent in than was serv’d out.

Next may your dairies prosper soAs that your pans no ebb may know;But if they do, the more to flow;

Next may your dairies prosper so

As that your pans no ebb may know;

But if they do, the more to flow;

Like to a solemn sober streamBank’d all with lilies, and the creamOf sweetest cowslips filling them.

Like to a solemn sober stream

Bank’d all with lilies, and the cream

Of sweetest cowslips filling them.

Then, may your plants be prest with fruit,Nor bee or hive you have be mute;But sweetly sounding like a lute.

Then, may your plants be prest with fruit,

Nor bee or hive you have be mute;

But sweetly sounding like a lute.

Next may your duck and teeming henBoth to the cock’s tread say Amen;And for their two eggs render ten.

Next may your duck and teeming hen

Both to the cock’s tread say Amen;

And for their two eggs render ten.

Last may your harrows, shears, and ploughs,Your stacks, your stocks, your sweetest mows,All prosper by your virgin vows.Robert Herrick

Last may your harrows, shears, and ploughs,

Your stacks, your stocks, your sweetest mows,

All prosper by your virgin vows.

Robert Herrick

[45]White bread.

NOW, now the mirth comesWith the cake full of plums,Where bean’s the king of the sport here;Besides we must know,The pea alsoMust revel as queen in the court here.Begin then to chooseThis night as ye use,Who shall for the present delight here;Be a king by the lot,And who shall notBe Twelfth-day queen for the night here.Which known, let us makeJoy-sops with the cake;And let not a man then be seen here,Who unurg’d will not drink,To the base from the brink,A health to the king and the queen here.Next crown the bowl fullWith gentle lamb’s wool:Add sugar, nutmeg, and ginger,With store of ale too:And thus ye must doTo make the wassail a swinger.Give then to the kingAnd queen wassailing:And though with ale ye be whet here,Yet part ye from henceAs free from offenceAs when ye innocent met here.Robert Herrick

NOW, now the mirth comesWith the cake full of plums,Where bean’s the king of the sport here;Besides we must know,The pea alsoMust revel as queen in the court here.

NOW, now the mirth comes

With the cake full of plums,

Where bean’s the king of the sport here;

Besides we must know,

The pea also

Must revel as queen in the court here.

Begin then to chooseThis night as ye use,Who shall for the present delight here;Be a king by the lot,And who shall notBe Twelfth-day queen for the night here.

Begin then to choose

This night as ye use,

Who shall for the present delight here;

Be a king by the lot,

And who shall not

Be Twelfth-day queen for the night here.

Which known, let us makeJoy-sops with the cake;And let not a man then be seen here,Who unurg’d will not drink,To the base from the brink,A health to the king and the queen here.

Which known, let us make

Joy-sops with the cake;

And let not a man then be seen here,

Who unurg’d will not drink,

To the base from the brink,

A health to the king and the queen here.

Next crown the bowl fullWith gentle lamb’s wool:Add sugar, nutmeg, and ginger,With store of ale too:And thus ye must doTo make the wassail a swinger.

Next crown the bowl full

With gentle lamb’s wool:

Add sugar, nutmeg, and ginger,

With store of ale too:

And thus ye must do

To make the wassail a swinger.

Give then to the kingAnd queen wassailing:And though with ale ye be whet here,Yet part ye from henceAs free from offenceAs when ye innocent met here.Robert Herrick

Give then to the king

And queen wassailing:

And though with ale ye be whet here,

Yet part ye from hence

As free from offence

As when ye innocent met here.

Robert Herrick

NO news of navies burnt at seas;No noise of late-spawn’d tittyries;[46]No closet plot, or open ventThat frights men with a parliament:No new device or late-found trickTo read by th’ stars the kingdom’s sick;No gin to catch the state, or wringThe free-born nostrils of the king,We send to you: but here a jollyVerse crown’d with ivy and with holly,That tells of winter’s tales and mirth,That milkmaids make about the hearth,Or Christmas sports, the wassail bowl,That tost up, after fox-i-th’-hole;Of blind-man-buff, and of the careThat young men have to shoe the mare;Of twelve-tide cakes, of peas and beans,Wherewith you make those merry scenes,Whenas ye choose your king and queenAnd cry out: ‘Hey, for our town green’;Of ash-heaps in the which ye useHusbands and wives by streaks to choose;Of crackling laurel which foresoundsA plenteous harvest to your grounds:Of these and such-like things for shift,We send instead of New Year’s gift.Read then, and when your faces shineWith buxom meat and cap’ring wine,Remember us in cups full crown’d,And let our city-health go round,Quite through the young maids and the men,To the ninth number, if not ten;Until the fired chestnuts leapFor joy to see the fruits ye reapFrom the plump chalice and the cupThat tempts till it be tossed up;Then as ye sit about your embers,Call not to mind those fled Decembers,But think on these that are t’ appearAs daughters to the instant year:Sit crown’d with rosebuds, and carouseTill Liber Pater twirls the houseAbout your ears; and lay uponThe year your cares that’s fled and gone.And let the russet swains the ploughAnd harrow hang up resting now;And to the bagpipe all address,Till sleep takes place of weariness.And thus, throughout, with Christmas playsFrolic the full twelve holidays.Robert Herrick

NO news of navies burnt at seas;

No noise of late-spawn’d tittyries;[46]

No closet plot, or open vent

That frights men with a parliament:

No new device or late-found trick

To read by th’ stars the kingdom’s sick;

No gin to catch the state, or wring

The free-born nostrils of the king,

We send to you: but here a jolly

Verse crown’d with ivy and with holly,

That tells of winter’s tales and mirth,

That milkmaids make about the hearth,

Or Christmas sports, the wassail bowl,

That tost up, after fox-i-th’-hole;

Of blind-man-buff, and of the care

That young men have to shoe the mare;

Of twelve-tide cakes, of peas and beans,

Wherewith you make those merry scenes,

Whenas ye choose your king and queen

And cry out: ‘Hey, for our town green’;

Of ash-heaps in the which ye use

Husbands and wives by streaks to choose;

Of crackling laurel which foresounds

A plenteous harvest to your grounds:

Of these and such-like things for shift,

We send instead of New Year’s gift.

Read then, and when your faces shine

With buxom meat and cap’ring wine,

Remember us in cups full crown’d,

And let our city-health go round,

Quite through the young maids and the men,

To the ninth number, if not ten;

Until the fired chestnuts leap

For joy to see the fruits ye reap

From the plump chalice and the cup

That tempts till it be tossed up;

Then as ye sit about your embers,

Call not to mind those fled Decembers,

But think on these that are t’ appear

As daughters to the instant year:

Sit crown’d with rosebuds, and carouse

Till Liber Pater twirls the house

About your ears; and lay upon

The year your cares that’s fled and gone.

And let the russet swains the plough

And harrow hang up resting now;

And to the bagpipe all address,

Till sleep takes place of weariness.

And thus, throughout, with Christmas plays

Frolic the full twelve holidays.

Robert Herrick

[46]An early club of Mohocks.

NOW winter nights enlargeThe number of their hours;And clouds their storms dischargeUpon the airy towers.Let now the chimneys blazeAnd cups o’erflow with wine,Let well-tuned words amazeWith harmony divine.Now yellow waxen lightsShall wait on honey love,While youthful revels, masques, and courtly sights,Sleep’s leaden spells remove.This time doth well dispenseWith lovers’ long discourse,Much speech hath some defence,Though beauty no remorse.All do not all things well;Some measures comely tread,Some knotted riddles tell,Some poems smoothly read.The summer hath his joys,And winter his delights;Though love and all his pleasures are but toys,They shorten tedious nights.Thomas Campion

NOW winter nights enlarge

The number of their hours;

And clouds their storms discharge

Upon the airy towers.

Let now the chimneys blaze

And cups o’erflow with wine,

Let well-tuned words amaze

With harmony divine.

Now yellow waxen lights

Shall wait on honey love,

While youthful revels, masques, and courtly sights,

Sleep’s leaden spells remove.

This time doth well dispenseWith lovers’ long discourse,Much speech hath some defence,Though beauty no remorse.All do not all things well;Some measures comely tread,Some knotted riddles tell,Some poems smoothly read.The summer hath his joys,And winter his delights;Though love and all his pleasures are but toys,They shorten tedious nights.Thomas Campion

This time doth well dispense

With lovers’ long discourse,

Much speech hath some defence,

Though beauty no remorse.

All do not all things well;

Some measures comely tread,

Some knotted riddles tell,

Some poems smoothly read.

The summer hath his joys,

And winter his delights;

Though love and all his pleasures are but toys,

They shorten tedious nights.

Thomas Campion

TO shorten winter’s sadness,See where the nymphs with gladnessDisguisèd all are comingRight wantonly a-mumming.Fa la.Whilst youthful sports are lastingTo feasting turn our fasting;With revels and with wassailsMake grief and care our vassals.Fa la.For youth it well beseemethThat pleasure he esteemeth;And sullen age is hatedThat mirth would have abated.Fa la.Unknown.

TO shorten winter’s sadness,See where the nymphs with gladnessDisguisèd all are comingRight wantonly a-mumming.Fa la.

TO shorten winter’s sadness,

See where the nymphs with gladness

Disguisèd all are coming

Right wantonly a-mumming.

Fa la.

Whilst youthful sports are lastingTo feasting turn our fasting;With revels and with wassailsMake grief and care our vassals.Fa la.

Whilst youthful sports are lasting

To feasting turn our fasting;

With revels and with wassails

Make grief and care our vassals.

Fa la.

For youth it well beseemethThat pleasure he esteemeth;And sullen age is hatedThat mirth would have abated.Fa la.Unknown.

For youth it well beseemeth

That pleasure he esteemeth;

And sullen age is hated

That mirth would have abated.

Fa la.

Unknown.

THE damsel donn’d her kirtle sheen;The hall was dress’d with holly green;Forth to the wood did merry-men go,To gather in the mistletoe.Then open’d wide the baron’s hallTo vassal, tenant, serf and all;Power laid his rod of rule aside,And ceremony doff’d his pride.The heir with roses in his shoesThat night might village partner choose;The lord underogating shareThe vulgar game of post-and-pair.All hail’d with uncontroll’d delightAnd general voice the happy nightThat to the cottage as the crownBrought tidings of salvation down.The fire with well-dried logs suppliedWent roaring up the chimney wide;The huge hall-table’s oaken face,Scrubb’d till it shone, the day to grace,Bore then upon its massive boardNo mark to part the squire and lord.Then was brought in the lusty brawnBy old blue-coated serving-man;Then the grim boar’s head frown’d on high,Crested with bay and rosemary.Well can the green-garb’d ranger tellHow, when, and where the monster fell,What dogs before his death he tore,And all the baiting of the boar.The wassail round, in good brown bowls,Garnish’d with ribbons, blithely trowls.There the huge sirloin reek’d; hard byPlum-porridge stood and Christmas pie;Nor fail’d old Scotland to produceAt such high-tide her savoury goose.Then came the merry masquers inAnd carols roar’d with blithesome din;If unmelodious was the songIt was a hearty note and strong.Who lists may in their mumming seeTraces of ancient mystery;White shirts supplied the masquerade,And smutted cheeks the visors made:But oh! what masquers richly dightCan boast of bosoms half so light!England was merry England whenOld Christmas brought his sports again.’Twas Christmas broach’d the mightiest ale,’Twas Christmas told the merriest tale;A Christmas gambol oft could cheerThe poor man’s heart through half the year.Sir Walter Scott

THE damsel donn’d her kirtle sheen;

The hall was dress’d with holly green;

Forth to the wood did merry-men go,

To gather in the mistletoe.

Then open’d wide the baron’s hall

To vassal, tenant, serf and all;

Power laid his rod of rule aside,

And ceremony doff’d his pride.

The heir with roses in his shoes

That night might village partner choose;

The lord underogating share

The vulgar game of post-and-pair.

All hail’d with uncontroll’d delight

And general voice the happy night

That to the cottage as the crown

Brought tidings of salvation down.

The fire with well-dried logs suppliedWent roaring up the chimney wide;The huge hall-table’s oaken face,Scrubb’d till it shone, the day to grace,Bore then upon its massive boardNo mark to part the squire and lord.Then was brought in the lusty brawnBy old blue-coated serving-man;Then the grim boar’s head frown’d on high,Crested with bay and rosemary.Well can the green-garb’d ranger tellHow, when, and where the monster fell,What dogs before his death he tore,And all the baiting of the boar.The wassail round, in good brown bowls,Garnish’d with ribbons, blithely trowls.There the huge sirloin reek’d; hard byPlum-porridge stood and Christmas pie;Nor fail’d old Scotland to produceAt such high-tide her savoury goose.Then came the merry masquers inAnd carols roar’d with blithesome din;If unmelodious was the songIt was a hearty note and strong.Who lists may in their mumming seeTraces of ancient mystery;White shirts supplied the masquerade,And smutted cheeks the visors made:But oh! what masquers richly dightCan boast of bosoms half so light!England was merry England whenOld Christmas brought his sports again.’Twas Christmas broach’d the mightiest ale,’Twas Christmas told the merriest tale;A Christmas gambol oft could cheerThe poor man’s heart through half the year.Sir Walter Scott

The fire with well-dried logs supplied

Went roaring up the chimney wide;

The huge hall-table’s oaken face,

Scrubb’d till it shone, the day to grace,

Bore then upon its massive board

No mark to part the squire and lord.

Then was brought in the lusty brawn

By old blue-coated serving-man;

Then the grim boar’s head frown’d on high,

Crested with bay and rosemary.

Well can the green-garb’d ranger tell

How, when, and where the monster fell,

What dogs before his death he tore,

And all the baiting of the boar.

The wassail round, in good brown bowls,

Garnish’d with ribbons, blithely trowls.

There the huge sirloin reek’d; hard by

Plum-porridge stood and Christmas pie;

Nor fail’d old Scotland to produce

At such high-tide her savoury goose.

Then came the merry masquers in

And carols roar’d with blithesome din;

If unmelodious was the song

It was a hearty note and strong.

Who lists may in their mumming see

Traces of ancient mystery;

White shirts supplied the masquerade,

And smutted cheeks the visors made:

But oh! what masquers richly dight

Can boast of bosoms half so light!

England was merry England when

Old Christmas brought his sports again.

’Twas Christmas broach’d the mightiest ale,

’Twas Christmas told the merriest tale;

A Christmas gambol oft could cheer

The poor man’s heart through half the year.

Sir Walter Scott

WINTER was not unkind because uncouth;His prison’d time made me a closer guest,And gave thy graciousness a warmer zest,Biting all else with keen and angry tooth:And bravelier the triumphant blood of youthMantling thy cheek its happy home possest,And sterner sport by day put strength to test,And custom’s feast at night gave tongue to truth.Or say hath flaunting summer a deviceTo match our midnight revelry, that rangWith steel and flame along the snow-girt ice?Or when we hark’t to nightingales that sangOn dewy eves in spring, did they enticeTo gentler love than winter’s icy fang?Robert Bridges

WINTER was not unkind because uncouth;

His prison’d time made me a closer guest,

And gave thy graciousness a warmer zest,

Biting all else with keen and angry tooth:

And bravelier the triumphant blood of youth

Mantling thy cheek its happy home possest,

And sterner sport by day put strength to test,

And custom’s feast at night gave tongue to truth.

Or say hath flaunting summer a deviceTo match our midnight revelry, that rangWith steel and flame along the snow-girt ice?Or when we hark’t to nightingales that sangOn dewy eves in spring, did they enticeTo gentler love than winter’s icy fang?Robert Bridges

Or say hath flaunting summer a device

To match our midnight revelry, that rang

With steel and flame along the snow-girt ice?

Or when we hark’t to nightingales that sang

On dewy eves in spring, did they entice

To gentler love than winter’s icy fang?

Robert Bridges

Back to Index Next