THE WASSAIL-BOWL .

Was-haile!
Sire Christmas brings the wreathed cup
With apples, ale, and spice filled up.
Was-haile!
Each ancient grief and grudge we drown;
The Lamb's-wool smooths the roughest frown;
Drink-haile!
Peal, merry bells, peal out apace,
We pledge Immanuel's day of grace —
Was-haile! Noil!
He brings us joy, Immanuel!