Fill the punch-bowl to the brim,
Merry be—’tis Christmas-time,
In it let sliced lemons swim,
’Til the midnight bell doth chime.
Eye the holly, fresh and green,
Intertwined with mistletoe;
Cast the ashen faggot[104] in,
Fan it till it crack and glow.
Pass the rosy goblet round;
Bathe thy lips in liquors choice;
Pour thy pleasure out in sound;
Make an effort with thy voice:
Thus enhance the jubilee—
Let fair damsels lead the songs,
Follow them, in harmony;
For with music love belongs.
Haste ye, and repeat the glee,
Solo-song, or madrigal:—
Quoth the host—“It pleases me,
Bravo!—thou hast sung it well.”
Hark! the church-clock, striking twelve,
Tingles through the merry hall;
Put the tankard on the shelf—
Rich or poor,—and stop the ball.[105]
Now, with solemn gratitude,
Thank Him, who provides us cheer;
And with equal promptitude
Reverence the fast fleeting year.
Spend the Sabbath, (’tis the last
That will count in ’sixty-four,)—
With a right becoming fast,
’Til the Monday sun shall soar.
Then with seemly merriment,
’Neath the mistletoe be gay;
And with chasty sentiment
Join the choral roundelay.
Dance together, young and old,
To the sound of violin:
Who will venture—who so bold—
To assert it is a sin?—
Thus, for youths, in measured pace,
To trip o’er the planken floor;
Parents, with their wonted grace,
Skipping as in days of yore?
No! this never can be sin,—
So dance on—enjoy the hour;
And when done—go, think of Him,
Who, alone, can blessings show’r.
[103] Christmas Day, in this year, happened to be on Sunday.
[104] In Devonshire farmhouses, it is a very customary practice, on
Christmas Eve, to put a number of wooden binders around an ashen or oaken
faggot, and according to the quantity of them (the binders), so is the
quantity of cider regulated for the evening’s entertainment.
[105] The dance.
[Illustration]
THE
DEATH, BURIAL, AND DESTRUCTION
OF
BACCHUS;
OR,
THE FRUITS OF LASCIVIOUSNESS.