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OLD CHRISTMAS RETURNED.

And drink of their moisture contented and free

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My honest good fellow, come, here is to thee!"

And when they are hungry, full to their relief,

Plum-pudding, goose, capon, minced pies, and roast beef.

Young gallants and ladies shall foot it along,
Each room in the house to the music shall throng,
Whilst jolly carouses about they shall pass,
And each country swain trip about with his lass;
Meantime goes the caterer to fetch in the chief-
Plum-pudding, goose, capon, minced pies, and roast beef.

The cooks and the scullion, who toil in their frocks,
Their hopes do depend upon their Christmas-box;

There are very few that do live on the earth
But enjoy at this time either profit or mirth;

Yea, those that are charged to find all relief,
Plum-pudding, goose, capon, minced pies, and roast beef.

Then well may we welcome Old Christmas to town,
Who brings us good cheer, and good liquor so brown,
Το

pass the cold winter away with delight.

We feast it all day, and we frolic all night;
Both hunger and cold we keep out with relief,
Plum-pudding, goose, capon, minced pies, and roast beef.

Then let all curmudgeons, who dote on their wealth,
And value their treasure much more than their health,
Go hang themselves up, if they will be so kind,
Old Christmas with them but small welcome shall find:
They will not afford to themselves, without grief,
Plum-pudding, goose, capon, minced pies, and roast beef.

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, and carrying with them a large pitcher or milk-pail filled with cyder, with roasted apples hissing therein. They forthwith 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!

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 a quaintness pervading the other, sufficient to cause them to be admired in spite of their commonness.

[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.

O 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.

O 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,

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

In tempest, storm, and wind, And went to Bethlehem straightway,

This blessed Babe to find.

O tidings, &c.

But when to Bethlehem they came,

Where as this infant lay,

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 sworn:

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.