Classic Poem

God rest you, merry gentlemen!
Be not moved at my strain,
For nothing study shall my brain,
But for to make you laugh:
For I come here to this feast,
For to laugh, carouse, and jest,
And welcome shall be every guest,
To take his cup and quaff.

Chorus

Be frolicsome, every one,
Melancholy none;
Drink about!
Let it out,
And then we'll all go home,
And then we'll all go home.

This ale is a gallant thing,
It cheers the spirits of a king,
It makes a dumb man strive to sing,
Aye, and a beggar play!
A cripple that is lame and halt,
And scarce a mile a day can walk,
When he feels the juice of malt,
Will throw his crutch away.

Chorus . Be frolicsome, etc.

'Twill make the parson forget his men,
'Twill make the clerk forget his pen,
'Twill turn a tailor's giddy brain,
And make him break his wand.
The blacksmith loves it as his life,
It makes the tinker bang his wife,
Aye, and the butcher seek his knife
When he has it in his hand!

Chorus . Be frolicsome, etc.

So now to conclude, my merry boys all,
Let's with strong liquor take a fall,
Although the weakest goes to the wall,
The best is but a play!
For water it concludes in noise,
Good ale will cheer our hearts, brave boys;
Then put it round with cheerful voice,
We meet not every day.

Chorus . Be frolicsome, etc.