MERRY CHRISTMAS.

were very unwilling to let me go; so I left them, quite out of hope to have my company again for a twelvemonth's space, that, if I were not banished in my absence, they should have my presence again next 25th of December, 1653.”•

MERRY CHRISTMAS.

GEORGE WITHER.

O, now is come our joyful'st feast;
Let every man be jolly;

Each room with ivy leaves is drest,

And every post with holly.

Though some churls at our mirth repine,

Round your foreheads garlands twine;

Drown sorrow in a cup of wine,

And let us all be merry.

Now all our neighbours' chimneys smoke,
And Christmas blocks are burning;
Their ovens they with baked meats choke,

And all their spits are turning.

"Christmas In and Out; or, Our Lord and Saviour Christ's Birthday," 1652.

Without the door let sorrow lie;
And if for cold it hap to die,
We'll bury 't in a Christmas pie,
And ever more be merry.

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* 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.

• Fiddlers.

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.

This was an old custom on the part of tenants to their landlords, which came to be followed by all the poorer sort who made their annual offering at the great man's shrine at this particular season of the year. Gascoigne, who wrote in the reign of Elizabeth, says

"And when the tenants come to pay their quarter's rent,
They bring some fowl at Midsummer, a dish of fish in Lent,

At Christmas a capon, at Michaelmas a goose,

And somewhat else at New Year's tide, for fear their lease fly loose."

And Bishop Hall, in his Satires, has the following allusion to the circumstance:-

"Yet must he haunt his greedy landlord's hall,

With often presents at each festival;
With crammed capons every New Year's morn,

Or with green cheeses when his sheep are shorn."

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 roysters 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.

ΠΙ

MERRY CHRISTMAS,

Our kitchen-boy hath broke his box,*

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 every body;

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 every thing,

Bear witness we are merry.

George Wither will be remembered as the author of many tender and graceful poems, some few of which invariably find a place in every collection of early poetry. He was one of those uncompromising spirits, formed by and for the age in which th y live. He supported the cause of the Parliament with his satiric pen and good broadswoard. He sold his estate to raise a regiment, and was made a major-general by Cromwell in return. The Restoration stripped him of everything he possessed; still this was only a part of his misfortunes, for he was shortly afterwards imprisoned in the Tower on a charge of sedition, and, to increase his punishment, pens, ink, and paper were denied him. When he obtained his liberty is not known; he lived, however, to the good old age of seventy-nine, closing his troublous worldly career on May 2, 1667.

• This alludes to the Christmas money-box, made of carthenware, which required to be broken to obtain possession of the money it held.