His mouth to the bowl,
His feet to the fire;
And let him, good soul,
No comfort desire.
So merry he be,
I bid him abide:
And merry be we
This good Yuletide.
His mouth to the bowl,
His feet to the fire;
And let him, good soul,
No comfort desire.
So merry he be,
I bid him abide:
And merry be we
This good Yuletide.