Classic Poem

All you that in His house be here,
Remember Christ that for us dy'd,
And spend away with modest cheere
In loving sort this Christmas-tide.

And whereas plenty God hath sent,
Give frankly to your friends in love:
The bounteous mind is freely bent,
And never will a niggard prove.

Our table's spread within the hall,
I know a banquet is at hand,
And friendly sort to welcome all
That will unto their cacklings stand.

The maids are bonny girles, I see,
Who have provided much good cheere,
Which at my dame's commandment be
To set it on the table here.

For I have here two knives in store
To lend to him that wanteth one;
Commend my wits, good lads, therefore,
That come now hither having none.

For if I should, no Christmas pye
Would fall, I doubt, unto my share;
Wherefore I will my manhood try
To fight a battle if I dare.

For pastry crust, like castle walls,
Stands braving me unto my face;
I am not well until it falls,
And I made captain of the place.

The prunes so lovely look on me,
I cannot choose but venture on:
One pye-meat spiced brave I see,
One which, I must not leave alone.