258
WELCOME YULE!... Wolcum be thu, hevene kyng,Wolcum, born in on morwenyng,Wolcum for home[104]we shal syng,Wolcum yol.Wolcum be ye Stefne and Jon,Wolcum Innocentes everychon,Wolcum Thomas martyr on,Wolcum yol.Wolcum be ye, good newe yere,Wolcum twelthe-day, bothe infer,[105]Wolcum syentės lef[106]and der,Wolcum yol.Wolcum be ye Candylmesse,Wolcum be ye qwyn of blys,Wolcum both to mor and lesse,Wolcum yol.Wolcum be ye that am her,[107]Wolcum alle and mak good cher,Wolcum alle another yer,Wolcum yol.
... Wolcum be thu, hevene kyng,Wolcum, born in on morwenyng,Wolcum for home[104]we shal syng,Wolcum yol.Wolcum be ye Stefne and Jon,Wolcum Innocentes everychon,Wolcum Thomas martyr on,Wolcum yol.Wolcum be ye, good newe yere,Wolcum twelthe-day, bothe infer,[105]Wolcum syentės lef[106]and der,Wolcum yol.Wolcum be ye Candylmesse,Wolcum be ye qwyn of blys,Wolcum both to mor and lesse,Wolcum yol.Wolcum be ye that am her,[107]Wolcum alle and mak good cher,Wolcum alle another yer,Wolcum yol.
... Wolcum be thu, hevene kyng,Wolcum, born in on morwenyng,Wolcum for home[104]we shal syng,Wolcum yol.
... Wolcum be thu, hevene kyng,
Wolcum, born in on morwenyng,
Wolcum for home[104]we shal syng,
Wolcum yol.
Wolcum be ye Stefne and Jon,Wolcum Innocentes everychon,Wolcum Thomas martyr on,Wolcum yol.
Wolcum be ye Stefne and Jon,
Wolcum Innocentes everychon,
Wolcum Thomas martyr on,
Wolcum yol.
Wolcum be ye, good newe yere,Wolcum twelthe-day, bothe infer,[105]Wolcum syentės lef[106]and der,Wolcum yol.
Wolcum be ye, good newe yere,
Wolcum twelthe-day, bothe infer,[105]
Wolcum syentės lef[106]and der,
Wolcum yol.
Wolcum be ye Candylmesse,Wolcum be ye qwyn of blys,Wolcum both to mor and lesse,Wolcum yol.
Wolcum be ye Candylmesse,
Wolcum be ye qwyn of blys,
Wolcum both to mor and lesse,
Wolcum yol.
Wolcum be ye that am her,[107]Wolcum alle and mak good cher,Wolcum alle another yer,Wolcum yol.
Wolcum be ye that am her,[107]
Wolcum alle and mak good cher,
Wolcum alle another yer,
Wolcum yol.
259
NAY, IVY, NAYNay, Ivy, nay,Hyt shal not be, I wys;Let Holy hafe the maystry,As the maner[108]ys.Holy stond in the halle,Fayre to behold;Ivy stond wythout the dore,She ys ful sore a-cold.Nay, Ivy, nay...Holy and hys mery men,They dawnsyn and they syng;Ivy and hur maydenys,They wepyn and they wryng.Nay, Ivy, nay...Ivy hath a kybe,[109]She kaght yt wyth the colde,So mot thay all haf ae,That wyth Ivy hold.Nay, Ivy, nay...Holy hath berys,As rede as any rose,The foster[110]and the hunterKepe hem[111]fro the doos.Nay, Ivy, nay...Ivy hath berys,As blake as any slo,Ther com the oulė,And ete hym as she goo.Nay, Ivy, nay...Holy hath byrdys,A ful fayre flok,The nyghtyngale, the poppynguy,The gayntyl lavyrok.Nay, Ivy, nay...Gode Ivy [tell me]What byrdys ast thu?[112]Non but the howlat,That kreye[113]how, how!Nay, Ivy, nay,Hyt shal not be, I wys,Let Holy hafe the maystry,As the maner ys.
Nay, Ivy, nay,Hyt shal not be, I wys;Let Holy hafe the maystry,As the maner[108]ys.Holy stond in the halle,Fayre to behold;Ivy stond wythout the dore,She ys ful sore a-cold.Nay, Ivy, nay...Holy and hys mery men,They dawnsyn and they syng;Ivy and hur maydenys,They wepyn and they wryng.Nay, Ivy, nay...Ivy hath a kybe,[109]She kaght yt wyth the colde,So mot thay all haf ae,That wyth Ivy hold.Nay, Ivy, nay...Holy hath berys,As rede as any rose,The foster[110]and the hunterKepe hem[111]fro the doos.Nay, Ivy, nay...Ivy hath berys,As blake as any slo,Ther com the oulė,And ete hym as she goo.Nay, Ivy, nay...Holy hath byrdys,A ful fayre flok,The nyghtyngale, the poppynguy,The gayntyl lavyrok.Nay, Ivy, nay...Gode Ivy [tell me]What byrdys ast thu?[112]Non but the howlat,That kreye[113]how, how!Nay, Ivy, nay,Hyt shal not be, I wys,Let Holy hafe the maystry,As the maner ys.
Nay, Ivy, nay,Hyt shal not be, I wys;Let Holy hafe the maystry,As the maner[108]ys.
Nay, Ivy, nay,
Hyt shal not be, I wys;
Let Holy hafe the maystry,
As the maner[108]ys.
Holy stond in the halle,Fayre to behold;Ivy stond wythout the dore,She ys ful sore a-cold.Nay, Ivy, nay...
Holy stond in the halle,
Fayre to behold;
Ivy stond wythout the dore,
She ys ful sore a-cold.
Nay, Ivy, nay...
Holy and hys mery men,They dawnsyn and they syng;Ivy and hur maydenys,They wepyn and they wryng.Nay, Ivy, nay...
Holy and hys mery men,
They dawnsyn and they syng;
Ivy and hur maydenys,
They wepyn and they wryng.
Nay, Ivy, nay...
Ivy hath a kybe,[109]She kaght yt wyth the colde,So mot thay all haf ae,That wyth Ivy hold.Nay, Ivy, nay...
Ivy hath a kybe,[109]
She kaght yt wyth the colde,
So mot thay all haf ae,
That wyth Ivy hold.
Nay, Ivy, nay...
Holy hath berys,As rede as any rose,The foster[110]and the hunterKepe hem[111]fro the doos.Nay, Ivy, nay...
Holy hath berys,
As rede as any rose,
The foster[110]and the hunter
Kepe hem[111]fro the doos.
Nay, Ivy, nay...
Ivy hath berys,As blake as any slo,Ther com the oulė,And ete hym as she goo.Nay, Ivy, nay...
Ivy hath berys,
As blake as any slo,
Ther com the oulė,
And ete hym as she goo.
Nay, Ivy, nay...
Holy hath byrdys,A ful fayre flok,The nyghtyngale, the poppynguy,The gayntyl lavyrok.Nay, Ivy, nay...
Holy hath byrdys,
A ful fayre flok,
The nyghtyngale, the poppynguy,
The gayntyl lavyrok.
Nay, Ivy, nay...
Gode Ivy [tell me]What byrdys ast thu?[112]Non but the howlat,That kreye[113]how, how!
Gode Ivy [tell me]
What byrdys ast thu?[112]
Non but the howlat,
That kreye[113]how, how!
Nay, Ivy, nay,Hyt shal not be, I wys,Let Holy hafe the maystry,As the maner ys.
Nay, Ivy, nay,
Hyt shal not be, I wys,
Let Holy hafe the maystry,
As the maner ys.
260
TU-WHIT TO-WHOWhen Isicles hang by the wall,And Dicke the shepheard blowes his naile,And Tom beares Logges into the hall,And Milke comes frozen home in paile:When blood is nipt, and waies be fowle,Then nightly sings the staring Owle,Tu-whit to-whoA merrie note,While greasie Jone doth keele[114]the pot.When all aloud the winde doth blow,And coifing drownes the Parson's saw;And birds sit brooding in the snow,And Marrian's nose lookes red and raw;When roasted Crabs[115]hisse in the bowle,Then nightly sings the staring Owle,Tu-whit to-whoA merrie note,While greasy Jone doth keele the pot.William Shakespeare
When Isicles hang by the wall,And Dicke the shepheard blowes his naile,And Tom beares Logges into the hall,And Milke comes frozen home in paile:When blood is nipt, and waies be fowle,Then nightly sings the staring Owle,Tu-whit to-whoA merrie note,While greasie Jone doth keele[114]the pot.When all aloud the winde doth blow,And coifing drownes the Parson's saw;And birds sit brooding in the snow,And Marrian's nose lookes red and raw;When roasted Crabs[115]hisse in the bowle,Then nightly sings the staring Owle,Tu-whit to-whoA merrie note,While greasy Jone doth keele the pot.William Shakespeare
When Isicles hang by the wall,And Dicke the shepheard blowes his naile,And Tom beares Logges into the hall,And Milke comes frozen home in paile:When blood is nipt, and waies be fowle,Then nightly sings the staring Owle,Tu-whit to-whoA merrie note,While greasie Jone doth keele[114]the pot.
When Isicles hang by the wall,
And Dicke the shepheard blowes his naile,
And Tom beares Logges into the hall,
And Milke comes frozen home in paile:
When blood is nipt, and waies be fowle,
Then nightly sings the staring Owle,
Tu-whit to-who
A merrie note,
While greasie Jone doth keele[114]the pot.
When all aloud the winde doth blow,And coifing drownes the Parson's saw;And birds sit brooding in the snow,And Marrian's nose lookes red and raw;When roasted Crabs[115]hisse in the bowle,Then nightly sings the staring Owle,Tu-whit to-whoA merrie note,While greasy Jone doth keele the pot.
When all aloud the winde doth blow,
And coifing drownes the Parson's saw;
And birds sit brooding in the snow,
And Marrian's nose lookes red and raw;
When roasted Crabs[115]hisse in the bowle,
Then nightly sings the staring Owle,
Tu-whit to-who
A merrie note,
While greasy Jone doth keele the pot.
William Shakespeare
261
BLOW, BLOW, THOU WINTER WINDBlow, blow, thou winter winde,Thou art not so unkindeAs man's ingratitude;Thy tooth is not so keene,Because thou art not seene,Although thy breath be rude.Heigh ho! sing heigh ho, unto the green holly,Most friendship is fayning, most Loving meere folly:Then heigh ho, the holly,This Life is most jolly.Freize, freize, thou bitter skie,That dost not bight so nighAs benefitts forgot;Though thou the waters warpe,Thy sting is not so sharpe,As friend remembered not.Heigh ho! sing heigh ho! unto the green holly,Most friendship is fayning, most Loving meere folly:Then heigh ho, the holly,This Life is most jolly.William Shakespeare
Blow, blow, thou winter winde,Thou art not so unkindeAs man's ingratitude;Thy tooth is not so keene,Because thou art not seene,Although thy breath be rude.Heigh ho! sing heigh ho, unto the green holly,Most friendship is fayning, most Loving meere folly:Then heigh ho, the holly,This Life is most jolly.Freize, freize, thou bitter skie,That dost not bight so nighAs benefitts forgot;Though thou the waters warpe,Thy sting is not so sharpe,As friend remembered not.Heigh ho! sing heigh ho! unto the green holly,Most friendship is fayning, most Loving meere folly:Then heigh ho, the holly,This Life is most jolly.William Shakespeare
Blow, blow, thou winter winde,Thou art not so unkindeAs man's ingratitude;Thy tooth is not so keene,Because thou art not seene,Although thy breath be rude.Heigh ho! sing heigh ho, unto the green holly,Most friendship is fayning, most Loving meere folly:Then heigh ho, the holly,This Life is most jolly.
Blow, blow, thou winter winde,
Thou art not so unkinde
As man's ingratitude;
Thy tooth is not so keene,
Because thou art not seene,
Although thy breath be rude.
Heigh ho! sing heigh ho, unto the green holly,
Most friendship is fayning, most Loving meere folly:
Then heigh ho, the holly,
This Life is most jolly.
Freize, freize, thou bitter skie,That dost not bight so nighAs benefitts forgot;Though thou the waters warpe,Thy sting is not so sharpe,As friend remembered not.Heigh ho! sing heigh ho! unto the green holly,Most friendship is fayning, most Loving meere folly:Then heigh ho, the holly,This Life is most jolly.William Shakespeare
Freize, freize, thou bitter skie,
That dost not bight so nigh
As benefitts forgot;
Though thou the waters warpe,
Thy sting is not so sharpe,
As friend remembered not.
Heigh ho! sing heigh ho! unto the green holly,
Most friendship is fayning, most Loving meere folly:
Then heigh ho, the holly,
This Life is most jolly.
William Shakespeare