From the Bukowniaer. Von Wliolocki. There was once upon a time a poor boy who had neither father nor mother. In order to gain a living he looked after the sheep of a great Lord. Day and night he spent out in the open fields, and o... Read more of The Giants And The Herd-boy at Children Stories.caInformational Site Network Informational
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A Christmas Song
TUDOR JENKS When mother-love makes all thing...

The Shepherds In Judea
MARY AUSTIN Oh, the Shepherds in Judea, ...

The Felling Of The Tree
A swift mountain-flood rolling down its channel; a hu...

The Story Of Oello
Once upon a time there was a young girl, who had the ...

The Spirit Of Christmas
From Pickwick Papers. CHARLES DICKENS And numerou...

Master Sandy's Snapdragon
ELBRIDGE S. BROOKS THERE was just enough of Decemb...

An Offertory
MARY MAPES DODGE Oh, the beauty of the Chris...





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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