Christmas

by Unknown

Here's to our mare, and to her right eye,

God send our mistress a good Christmas pie;

A good Christmas pie as e'er I did see,—

With my wassailing bowl I drink to thee.

Here's to our 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 here be some;

Sure they will not let young men stand on the cold stone!