Classic Poem

Wassail, wassail, all over the town,
Our toast is white and our ale is brown,
Our bowl it is made of a maplin tree,
And so is good beer of the best barley.

Here's to the ox and to his long horn;
May God send our master a crop of good corn.
A crop of good corn, and another of hay,
To pass the cold wintry nights away.

Here's to the ox and to his right ear;
May God send our master a happy New Year.
A happy New Year, as we all may see,
With our wassailing bowl we will drink unto thee.

Here's to old Jerry and to her right eye;
May God send our mistress a good Christmas pie.
A good Christmas pie, as we all may see,
And a wassailing bowl we will drink unto thee.

Here's to old Boxer and to his long tail;
I hope that our master'll have ne'er a horse fail.
Ne'er a horse fail, as we all may see,
And a wassailing bowl we will drink unto thee.

Come pretty maidens—I suppose there are some!
Never let us poor young men stand on the cold stone;
The stones they are cold and our shoes they are thin,
The fairest maid in the house let us come in.
Let us come in and see how you do.

Here's to the maid and the rosemary tree,
The ribbons are wanted, and that you can see;
The ribbons are wanted, and that you can see;
With our wassailing bowl we will drink unto thee.

Now, bottler, come fill us a bowl of the best,
And we hope that thy soul in heaven may rest.
But if you do bring us a bowl of the small,
Then down shall go bottler, bowl and all,
Bowl and all, bowl and all,
Then down shall go bottler, bowl and all.

Now, master and mistress, if you are within,
Send down some of your merry, merry men,
That we may eat and drink before the clock strikes ten,
Our jolly wassail,
When joy comes to our jolly wassail.