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WASSAILING FRUIT TREES.

The custom of Wassailing the fruit trees on the eve of Twelfth-day has been before alluded to. It seems to have been the practice on the part of the Devonshire farmers, to proceed to their orchards in the evening, accompanied by their farm servants, when they carried with them a large piteher or milk-pail filled with cyder, with roasted apples hissing therein. They forth with encircled one of the best bearing trees, and drunk the following toast three times. The remains of the wassailing liquor was then thrown against the trees, under the idea that a fruitful year would be the result.

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“ HERE's to thee, old apple-tree,
Whence thou may'st bud, and thou may’st blow!
And whence thou may’st bear apples enow!

Hats full! caps full!
Bushel-bushel-sacks full !
And my pockets full too! Iluzza !”

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Two out of the three subjoined Carols will be recognised as old familiar friends. Though in all probability more than a century and a half old, they are the Carols of the People even at the present day, and, independent of their claim on this score, to be admitted into the present work, there is a pleasing simplicity about the one, and an imaginative feeling about the other, sufficient to cause them to be admired in spite of their commonness.

GOD REST YOU, MERRY GENTLEMEN.

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OD rest you, merry gentlemen,

Let nothing you dismay,
For Jesus Christ, our Saviour,

Was born upon this day;
To save us all from Satan's power,

When we were gone astray.
O tidings of comfort and joy,

[Day. For Jesus Christ our Saviour was born on Christmas

In Bethlehem in Jewry

This blessed babe was born, And laid within a manger

Upon this blessed morn ; The which his mother Mary Nothing did take in scorn.

() tidings, &c.

From God, our Heavenly Father,

A blessed Angel came, And, unto certain shepherds,

Brought tidings of the same; How, that in Bethlehem was born The Son of God by name.

() tidings, &c.

Fear not, then said the Angel,

Let nothing you affright,
This day is born a Saviour,

Of virtue, power, and might,
So frequently to vanquish all
The friends of Satan quite.

O tidings, &c.

The Shepherds at those tidings,

Rejoicèd much in mind, And left their flocks a-feeding

In tempest, storm, and wind, And went to Bethlehem straightway, This blessed Babe to find.

() tidings, &c.

But when to Bethlehem they came,

Where as this infant lay,

CHI

CAROL, WITH LULLABY

They found him in a manger

Where oxen feed on hay,
His mother Mary kneeling
Unto the Lord did pray.

O tidings, &c.

Now to the Lord sing praises

All you within this place,
And with true love and brotherhood

Each other now embrace,
This holy tide of Christmas
All others doth deface.

O tidings, &c.

CAROL, WITH LULLABY.

Lulla, la lulla, lulla lullaby,

My sweet little baby, what meanest thou to cry? Be still, my blessed babe, though cause thou hast to mourn, Whose blood, most innocent, the cruel king hath sworu : And lo, alas, behold what slaughter he doth make, Shedding the blood of infants all, sweet Saviour, for thy sake: A king is born, they say, which king this king would kill ; Oh wo, and woful heavy day, when wretches have their will.

Lulla, la lulla, lulla lullaby, &c. Three kings this King of kings to see, are come from far, To each unknown, with offerings great, by guiding of a star! And shepherds heard the song, which angels bright did sing, Giving all glory unto God, for coming of this king. Which must be made away, King Herod would him kill; Oh wo, and woful heavy day, when wretches have their will.

Lulla, la lulla, lulla lullaby, &c.
Lo, my little babe, be still, lament no more,
From fury shalt thou step aside, help have we still in store ;
We heavenly warning have, some other soil to seek,
From death must fly the Lord of Life, as lamb both mild and

meek:
Thus must my babe obey the king that would him kill,
Oh wo, and woful heavy day, when wretches have their will.

Lulla, la lulla, lulla lullaby, &c.
But thou shalt live and reign, as sybils have foresaid,
As all the prophets prophesy, whose mother, yet a maid,
And perfect virgin pure, with her breasts shall up-breed
Both God and man, that all have made the son of heavenly

seed :
Whom caitiffs none can ’tray, whom tyrants none can kill,
Oh joy, and joyful happy day, when wretches want their

will.

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I SAW THREE SHIPS.

I saw three ships come sailing in

On Christmas Day, on Christmas Day;
I saw three ships come sailing in,

On Christmas Day in the morning'.

Ind what was in those ships all three,

On Christmas day, on Christmas Day?
And what was in those ships all three,

On Christmas Day in the morning ?

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