And young Lovell cried, “Oh! where dost thou hide,
I’m lonesome without thee, my own dear bride.”
Oh! the mistletoe bough.
* * * * *
The Michaelmas Goose.
The Michaelmas goose lay in Leadenhall,
On the outside of a poulterer’s stall;
The poulterer’s boys were blithe and gay,
Keeping of Leadenhall Market-day:
The poulterer, though his stock profuse,