Page 47 - Poetry-Country

Will have both clothes and dainty fare,
And all the day be merry.

Now poor men to the justices
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, nor fear,
For Christmas comes but once a year,
And then they shall be merry.
The client now his suit forbears,
The prisoner’s heart is eased:
The debtor feasts away his cares,
And for a time is pleased.
Though others’ 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! now 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 lower depth have found,
And there they will be merry.
Then, wherefore, in these merry days,
Should we, I pray, be duller?
No, let us sing some roundelay,
To make our mirth the fuller.
And while we thus in spirit sing,
Let all the streets with echoes ring,
Woods and hills, and every thing,
Bear witness we are merry.

— George Withers (1588-1667) (Demorest, 1873)

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