Classic Poem

Wassail, wassail, all over the town!
Our toast it is white and our ale it is brown.
Our bowl it is made of the white maple tree;
With the wassailing bowl we'll drink to thee.

So here is to Cherry and to his right cheek;
Pray God send our master a piece of good beef,
And a piece of good beef that may we all see;
With the wassailing bowl we'll drink to thee.

And here is to Dobbin and to his right eye;
Pray God send our master a good Christmas pie,
And a good Christmas pie that may we all see;
With our wassailing bowl we'll drink to thee.

So here is to Broad May and to her broad horn;
May God send our master a good crop of corn,
And a good crop of corn that may we all see;
With our wassailing bowl we'll drink to thee.

And here is to Filpail and to her left ear;
Pray God send our master a happy New Year,
And a happy New Year as e'er he did see;
With our wassailing bowl we'll drink to thee.

And here is to Colly and to her long tail;
Pray God send our master that never may fail
A bowl of strong beer; I pray you draw near
And our jolly wassail it's then you shall hear.

Come, butler, come fill us a bowl of the best,
Then we hope that your soul in heaven may rest;
But if you do draw us a bowl of the small,
Then down shall go butler, bowl and all.

Then here's to the maid in the lily-white smock,
Who tripped to the door and slipped back the lock,
Who tripped to the door and pulled back the pin,
For to let these jolly wassailers in.