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Hymn For Christmas
FELICIA HEMANS Oh! lovely voices of the sky ...

Neighbors Of The Christ Night
NORA ARCHIBALD SMITH Deep in the shelter of ...

The Legend Of Babouscka
ADAPTED FROM THE RUSSIAN IT WAS the night the dear...

The Philanthropist's Christmas
JAMES WEBER LINN "DID you see this committee yeste...

The Telltale Tile
OLIVE THORNE MILLER IT BEGINS with a bit of gossip...

Sly Santa Claus
MRS. C.S. STONE All the house was asleep, ...

Christmas Under The Snow
OLIVE THORNE MILLER IT WAS just before Christmas, ...





Wassailer's Song






ROBERT SOUTHWELL

Wassail! wassail! all over the town,
Our toast it is white, and our ale it is brown;
Our bowl is made of a maplin tree;
We be good fellows all;--I drink to thee.

Here's to our horse, and to his right ear,
God send master a happy new year;
A happy new year as e'er he did see,--
With my wassailing bowl I drink to thee.

Here's to our mare, and to her right eye,
God send our mistress a good Christmas pie;
A good Christmas pie as e'er I did see,--
With my wassailing bowl I drink to thee.

Here's to our cow, and to her long tail,
God send our measter us never may fail
Of a cup of good beer: I pray you draw near,
And our jolly wassail it's then you shall hear.

Be here any maids? I suppose here be some;
Sure they will not let young men stand on the cold stone!
Sing hey O, maids! come trole back the pin,
And the fairest maid in the house let us all in.

Come, butler, come, bring us a bowl of the best;
I hope your soul in heaven will rest;
But if you do bring us a bowl of the small,
Then down fall butler, and bowl and all.

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