Come fill us of the strongest, Small drink is out of date; Methinks I shall fare like a prince And sit in gallant state: This is no miser's feast, Although that things be dear; G.o.d grant the founder of this feast Each Christmas keep good cheer.

This day for Christ we celebrate, Who was born at this time; For which all Christians should rejoice, And I do sing in rhyme.

When you have given G.o.d thanks, Unto your dainties fall: Heaven bless my master and my dame, Lord bless me and you all.

_New Christmas Carols, A.D. 1642._

A BILL OF CHRISTMAS FARE.

Come, mad boys, be glad, boys, for Christmas is here, And we shall be feasted with jolly good cheer; Then let us be merry, 'tis Saint Stephen's day, Let's eat and drink freely, here's nothing to pay.

My master bids welcome, and so doth my dame, And 'tis yonder smoking dish doth me inflame; Anon I'll be with you, though you me outface, For now I do tell you I have time and place.

I'll troll the bowl to you, then let it go round, My heels are so light they can stand on no ground; My tongue it doth chatter, and goes pitter patter, Here's good beer and strong beer, for I will not flatter.

And now for remembrance of blessed Saint Stephen, Let's joy at morning, at noon, and at even; Then leave off your mincing, and fall to mince-pies, I pray take my counsel, be ruled by the wise.

_New Christmas Carols, A.D. 1642._

THE MAHOGANY-TREE.

Christmas is here: Winds whistle shrill, Icy and chill, Little care we: Little we fear Weather without Sheltered about The Mahogany-Tree.

Once on the boughs Birds of rare plume Sang, in its bloom; Night-birds are we: Here we carouse, Singing like them, Perched round the stem Of the jolly old tree.

Here let us sport, Boys, as we sit; Laughter and wit Flashing so free, Life is but short-- When we are gone, Let them sing on Round the old tree.

Evenings we knew, Happy as this; Faces we miss, Pleasant to see, Kind hearts and true, Gentle and just, Peace to your dust, We sing round the tree.

Care, like a dun, Lurks at the gate: Let the dog wait; Happy we'll be!

Drink, every one; Pile up the coals, Fill the red bowls, Round the old tree!

Drain we the cup-- Friend, art afraid?

Spirits are laid In the Red Sea.

Mantle it up; Empty it yet; Let us forget, Round the old tree.

Sorrow, begone!

Life and its ills, Duns and their bills, Bid we to flee.

Come with the dawn, Blue-devil sprite, Leave us to-night Round the old tree.

_William Makepeace Thackeray._

A CHRISTMAS CEREMONY.

Wa.s.sail the trees, that they may bear You many a plum and many a pear; For more or less fruits they will bring As you do give them wa.s.sailing.

_Robert Herrick._

WITH CAKES AND ALE.

With cakes and ale, and antic ring Well tiptoed to the tabor string, And many a buss below the holly, And flout at sable melancholy-- So, with a rouse, went Christma.s.sing!

What! are no latter waits to sing?

No clog to blaze? No wit to wing?

Are catches gone, and dimpled Dolly, With cakes and ale?

Nay, an you will, behold the thing: The spiced meat, the minstreling!

Undo Misrule, and many a volley Of losel s.n.a.t.c.hes born of folly-- Bring back the cheer, be Christmas-king, With cakes and ale!

_H. S. M._

THE MASQUE OF CHRISTMAS.

(AS IT WAS PRESENTED AT COURT, 1616.)

_The Court being seated_,

_Enter_ CHRISTMAS, _with two or three of the guard, attired in round hose, long stockings, a close doublet, a high-crowned hat, with a brooch, a long, thin beard, a truncheon, little ruffs, white shoes, his scarfs and garters tied cross, and his drum beaten before him._

Why, gentlemen, do you know what you do? ha! would you have kept me out? Christmas, old Christmas, Christmas of London, and Captain Christmas? Pray you, let me be brought before my lord chamberlain, I'll not be answered else: _'Tis merry in hall, when beards wag all:_ I have seen the time you have wish'd for me for a merry Christmas; and now you have me, they would not let me in: _I must come another time!_ a good jest, as if I could come more than once a year! Why, I am no dangerous person, and so I told my friends of the guard. I am old Gregory Christmas still, and though I come out of Pope's-head alley, as good a Protestant as any in my parish. The truth is, I have brought a Masque here, out o' the city, of my own making, and do present it by a set of my sons, that come out of the lanes of London, good dancing boys all. It was intended, I confess, for Curriers Hall; but because the weather has been open, and the Livery were not at leisure to see it till a frost came, that they cannot work, I thought it convenient, with some little alterations, and the groom of the revels' hand to 't, to fit it for a higher place; which I have done, and though I say it, another manner of device than your New-Year's-night. Bones o' bread, the king! (_seeing King James._) Son Rowland! Son Clem! be ready there in a trice: quick, boys!

_Enter his Sons and Daughters, (ten in number,) led in, in a string, by Cupid, who is attired in a flat cap, and a prentice's coat, with wings at his shoulders._

MISRULE, _in a velvet cap, with a sprig, a short cloak, great yellow ruff, like a reveller, his torch-bearer bearing a rope, a cheese, and a basket._

CAROL, _a long tawny coat, with a red cap, and a flute at his girdle, his torch-bearer carrying a song-book open._

MINCED-PIE, _like a fine cook's wife, drest neat; her man carrying a pie, dish, and spoons._