George Wither (Джордж Уидер)

A Christmas Carol

    So now is come our joyful'st feast,
  Let every man be jolly.
  Each room with ivy leaves is drest,
  And every post with holly.
    Though some churls at our mirth repine,
    Round your foreheads garlands twine,
    Drown sorrow in a cup of wine,
  And let us all be merry.

    Now all our neighbors' chimneys smoke,
  And Christmas blocks are burning;
  Their ovens they with bak'd-meats choke,
  And all their spits are turning.
    Without the door let sorrow lie,
    And if for cold it hap to die,
    We'll bury 't in a Christmas pie,
  And evermore be merry.

    Now every lad is wondrous trim,
  And no man minds his labor;
  Our lasses have provided them
  A bag-pipe and a tabor.
    Young men and maids and girls and boys
    Give life to one another's joys,
    And you anon shall by their noise
  Perceive that they are merry.

    Rank misers now do sparing shun,
  Their hall of music soundeth,
  And dogs thence with whole shoulders run,
  So all things there aboundeth.
    The country folk themselves advance,
    For crowdy-mutton's come out of France.
    And Jack shall pipe and Jill shall dance,
  And all the town be merry.

    Ned Swash hath fetch'd his bands from pawn,
  And all his best apparel;
  Brisk Nell hath bought a ruff of lawn
  With droppings of the barrel;
    And those that hardly all the year
    Had bread to eat or rags to wear,
    Will have both clothes and dainty fare,
  And all the day be merry.

    Now poor men to the justices
  With capons make their arrants,
  And if they hap to fail of these
  They plague them with their warrants.
    But now they feed them with good cheer,
    And what they want they take in beer,
    For Christmas comes but once a year,
  And then they shall be merry.

    Good farmers in the country nurse
  The poor, that else were undone.
  Some landlords spend their money worse,
  On lust and pride at London.
    There the roisters they do play,
    Drab and dice their land away,
    Which may be ours another day;
  And therefore let's be merry.

    The client now his suit forbears,
  The prisoner's heart is eased,
  The debtor drinks away his cares,
  And for the time is pleased.
    Though others' purses be more fat,
    Why should we pine or grieve at that?
    Hang sorrow, care will kill a cat,
  And therefore let's be merry.

    Hark how the wags abroad do call
  Each other forth to rambling;
  Anon you'll see them in the hall
  For nuts and apples scrambling.
    Hark how the roofs with laughters sound!
    Anon they'll think the house goes round,
    For they the cellar's depth have found,
  And there they will be merry.

    The wenches with their wassail bowls
  About the streets are singing,
  The boys are come to catch the owls,
  The wild mare in is bringing.
    Our kitchen boy hath broke his box,
    And to the dealing of the ox
    Our honest neighbors come by flocks,
  And here they will be merry.

    Now kings and queens poor sheepcotes have,
  And mate with everybody;
  The honest now may play the knave,
  And wise men play at noddy.
    Some youths will now a-mumming go,
    Some others play at rowlandhoe,
    And twenty other gameboys moe,
  Because they will be merry.

    Then wherefore in these merry days
  Should we, I pray, be duller?
  No, let us sing some roundelays
  To make our mirth the fuller.
    And, whilst thus inspir'd we sing,
    Let all the streets with echoes ring,
    Woods and hills and everything,
  Bear witness we are merry.

1. From a Satire written to King James I
2. Her Beauty
3. A Rocking Hymn
4. Song (Lordly gallants!)
5. For Seasonable Weather

Josiah Holland (Джозайя Холланд) A Christmas Carol ("There’s a song in the air!")

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