Lordings, Christmas loves good drinking,
Wines of Gascoigne, France, Anjou,[416]
English ale, that drives out thinking,
Prince of liquors old or new.
Every neighbour shares the bowl,
Drinks of the spicy liquor deep,
Drinks his fill without controul,
Till he drowns his care in sleep.
And now—by Christmas, jolly soul!
By this mansion’s generous sire!
By the wine, and by the bowl,
And all the joys they both inspire!
Here I’ll drink a health to all.
The glorious task shall first be mine:
And ever may foul luck befal
Him that to pledge me shall decline!
THE CHORUS.
Hail, father Christmas! hail to thee!
Honour’d ever shalt thou be!
All the sweets that love bestows,
Endless pleasures, wait on those
Who, like vassals brave and true,
Give to Christmas homage due.
From what has been observed of Christmas carols in another work, by the editor, a few notices will be subjoined with this remark, that the custom of singing carols at Christmas is very ancient; and though most of those that exist at the present day are deficient of interest to a refined ear, yet they are calculated to awaken tender feelings. For instance, one of them represents the virgin contemplating the birth of the infant, and saying,
“He neither shall be clothed
in purple nor in pall,
But all in fair linen,
as were babies all:
He neither shall be rock’d
in silver nor in gold,
But in a wooden cradle,
that rocks on the mould.”
Not to multiply instances at present, let it suffice that in a MS. at the British Museum[417] there is “A song on the holly and the ivy,” beginning,
“Nay, my nay, hyt shal not be I wys,
Let holy hafe the maystry, as the maner ys:
“Holy stond in the hall, fayre to behold,
Ivy stond without the dore, she ys ful sore acold.