Gloucestershire.
On New Year’s Eve the wassailers go about carrying with them a large bowl, dressed up with garlands and ribbons, and repeat the following song:
“Wassail! wassail! all over the town,
Our toast it is white, our ale it is brown,
Our bowl it is made of a maplin tree;
We be good fellows all, I drink to thee.
Here’s to our horse, and to his right ear,
God send our maister a happy New Year;
A happy New Year as e’er he did see—
With my wassailing bowl I drink to thee.
Here’s to our mare and to her right eye,
God send our mistress a good Christmas pye:
A good Christmas pye as e’er I did see—
With my wassailing bowl I drink to thee.
Here’s to Fil’pail [cow] and to her long tail,
God send our measter us never may fail
Of a cup of good beer, I pray you draw near,
And our jolly wassail it’s then you shall hear.
Be here any maids? I suppose there be some,
Sure they will not let young men stand on the cold stone;
Sing hey, O maids, come trole back the pin,
And the fairest maid in the house let us all in.
Come, butler, come bring us a bowl of the best:
I hope your soul in heaven will rest;
But if you do bring us a bowl of the small,
Then down fall butler, bowl and all.”
See Dixon’s Ancient Poems, 1846, p. 199.