Now every lad is wondrous trim, And no man minds his labour; Our lasses have provided them A bag-pipe and a tabour; 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 folks themselves advance With crowdy-muttons[73] out of France; And Jack shall pipe, and Jill shall dance, And all the town be merry. Ned Squash hath fetched 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 errants; 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 roys'ters they do play, Drab and dice their lands 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 other 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 laughter 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,[74] And to the dealing of the ox Our honest neighbours come by flocks, And here they will be merry. Now kings and queens poor sheep cotes have, And mate with everybody; The honest now may play the knave, And wise men play the noddy. Some youths will now a mumming go, Some others play at Rowland-ho And twenty other gambols mo, 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 inspired we sing, Let all the streets with echoes ring, Woods and hills, and everything, Bear witness we are merry.