Page:Our American Holidays - Christmas.djvu/102

 74 for thus they used, by snow and torch, to rear their voices at the porch:

Fred S. Cozzens.



Wassail! wassail! all over the town, Our toast it is white, and our ale it is brown; Our bowl is made of a maplin tree; We be good fellows all;—I drink to thee.

Here's to our horse, and to his right ear, God send master a happy new year; A happy new year as e'er he did see,— With my wassailing bowl I drink to thee.

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! 