W. SHAKSPEARE.

SOME say that ever 'gainst that season comes,
Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated,
The bird of dawning singeth all night long:
And then, they say, no spirit dares stir abroad;
The nights are wholesome; then no planets strike,
No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm,
So hallowed, and so gracious is the time.

WINTER.

EDMUND SPENSER.

NEXT came the chill December:

Yet he, through merry feasting which he made And great bonfires, did not the cold remember;

His Saviour's birth his mind so much did glad :
Upon a shaggy bearded goat he rode,

The same wherewith Dan Jove in tender years,
They say, was nourished by th' Iœan maid;
And in his hand a broad deep bowl he bears,
Of which he freely drinks an health to all his peers.
Lastly, came Winter clothed all in frieze,

Chattering his teeth for cold that did him chill;
Whilst on his hoary beard his breath did freeze,
And the dull drops, that from his purpled bill,
As from a limbeck, did adown distil:

In his right hand a tipped staff he held,

With which his feeble steps he stayed still; For he was faint with cold, and weak with eld,

That scarce his loosed limbs he able was to wield.

WINTER,

BEN JONSON.

THOU, in the winter, hunt'st the flying hare,
More for thy exercise, than fare;

While all that follow, their glad ears apply

To the full greatness of the cry;

Or hawking at the river, or the bush,

Or shooting at the greedy thrush,

Thou dost with some delight the day out wear,
Although the coldest of the year!

The whilst the several seasons thou hast seen
Of flow'ry fields, of copses green,

The mowed meadows, with the fleecèd sheep,
And feasts that either shearers keep;
The ripened ears, yet humble in their height,
And furrows laden with their weight;

The apple-harvest, that doth longer last;

The hogs returned home fat from mast;*
The trees cut out in log, and those boughs made
A fire now, that lent a shade!

Thus Pan and Sylvan, having had their rites,
Comus puts in for new delights,

And fills thy open hall with mirth and cheer,
As if in Saturn's reign it were ;
Apollo's harp, and Hermes' lyre resound,
Nor are the Muses strangers found:
The rout of rural folk come thronging in,

(Their rudeness then is thought no sin,)
Thy noblest spouse affords them welcome grace;
And the great heroes of her race

Sit mixt with loss of state, or reverence.

Freedom doth with degree dispense.
The jolly wassail walks the often round,
And in their cups their cares are drowned.

The fruit of the oak or beech.

BOAR'S HEAD CAROL.

The annexed is the only Carol on bringing in the Boar's Head that belongs to the era of Elizabeth and her successor James I. It was used before the Christmas Prince at St. John the Baptist's College, Oxford, in 1607. The engraving below is from an ancient carving, which is supposed to have been the veritable sign of the famous Boar's Head tavern in Eastcheap.

BOAR'S HEAD CAROL.

HE Boar is dead,

Lo, here is his head:

What man could have done more

Than his head off to strike,

Meleager like,

And bring it as I do before?

He living spoiled

Where good men toiled,

Which made kind Ceres sorry;

But now, dead and drawn,

Is very good brawn,

And we have brought it for ye.

Then set down the swineyard,

The foe to the vineyard,

Let Bacchus crown his fall;

Let this boar's head and mustard

Stand for pig, goose, and custard,

And so you are welcome all.

The following capital song affords an admirable contrast between the courtiers of Elizabeth, and those of her successor. The queen was opposed to the fashion then becoming prevalent, of country gentlemen spending their Christmas in London; and in a letter of the period, written by her orders, "the gentlemen of Norfolk and Suffolk are commanded to depart from London before Christmas, and repair to their counties, and there to keep hospitality among their neighbours." The country gentry, however, appear to have availed themselves of the opportunity of gratifying their hankering for a town life, when there was no imperious queen to issue her opposing commands, for we find a writer of the reign of James I. expressing himself in the following strain :-"Much do I detest that effeminacy of the most that burn out day and night in their beds, and by the fireside in trifles, gaming, or courting their yellow mistresses all the winter in a city; appearing, but as cuckoos in the spring, one time in the year to the country and their tenants, leaving the care of keeping good houses at Christmas to the honest yeomen of the country."

The song is reprinted from the “Percy Reliques." It is there stated to have been taken from a black-letter copy in the Pepys' Collection.

THE OLD AND YOUNG COURTIER.

I'LL sing you an old song made by a fine old pate,
Of a worshipful old gentleman who had a great estate,
That kept a brave old house at a bountiful rate,
And an old porter to relieve the poor at his gate:
Like an old courtier of the queen's,

And the queen's old courtier.

ODL

CAP

1.3

With an old lady, whose anger one word assuages,
That every quarter paid their old servants their wages,
And never knew what belonged to coachmen, footmen, nor pages,
But kept twenty old fellows with blue coats and badges :
Like an old courtier, &c.

With an old study filled full of learned old books,

With an old reverend chaplain, you might know him by his looks, With an old buttery hatch worn quite off the hooks,

And an old kitchen, that maintained half a dozen old cooks:

Like an old courtier, &c.