Contents -BIBLIOGRAPHIC RECORD

Thomas Humphry Ward, ed. The English Poets. 1880–1918.rnVol. II. The Seventeenth Century: Ben Jonson to Dryden

George Wither (1588–1667)

A Christmas Carol

SO now is come our joyfulst feast;

Let every man be jolly,

Each room with ivy leaves is drest

And every post with holly.

Though some churls at our mirth repine,

Round your foreheads garlands twine,

Drown sorrow in a cup of wine,

And let us all be merry.

Now every lad is wondrous trim,

And no man minds his labour;

Our lasses have provided them

A bag-pipe and a tabor.

Young men and maids and girls and boys

Give life to one another’s joys,

And you anon shall by their noise

Perceive that they are merry.

Rank misers now do sparing shun,

Their hall of music soundeth;

And dogs thence with whole shoulders run,

So all things here aboundeth.

The country folk themselves advance,

For Crowdy-mutton’s come out of France,

And Jack shall pipe, and Jill shall dance,

And all the town be merry.

Ned Swash hath fetched his bands from pawn,

And all his best apparel;

Brisk Nell hath bought a ruff of lawn

With droppings of the barrel.

And those that hardly all the year

Had bread to eat or rags to wear,

Will have both clothes and dainty fare

And all the day be merry.

The wenches with their wassail-bowls

About the street are singing,

The boys are come to catch the owls,

The wild-mare in is bringing.

Our kitchen-boy hath broke his box,

And to the dealing of the ox

Our honest neighbours come by flocks,

And here they will be merry.

Then wherefore in these merry days

Should we I pray be duller?

No let us sing our roundelays

To make our mirth the fuller;

And whilest thus inspired we sing

Let all the streets with echoes ring:

Woods, and hills, and every-thing

Bear witness we are merry.