Drink now the strong beer, Cut the white loaf here, The while the meat is a-shredding; For the rare mince-pie And the plums stand by, To fill the paste that's a-kneading.
_Caput apri defero_ _Reddens laudes domino._ The boar's head in hand bring I, With garlands gay and rosemary; I pray you all sing merrily _Qui estis in convivio._
The boar's head, I understand, Is the chief service in this land; Look, wherever it be fand, _Servite cum cantico._
Be glad, lords, both more and less, For this hath ordained our steward To cheer you all this Christmas, The boar's head with mustard.
The boar's head in hand bear I, Bedecked with bays and rosemary; And I pray you, my masters, be merry, _Quot estis in convivio._ _Caput apri defero_ _Reddens laudes domino._
The boar's head, as I understand, Is the rarest dish in all this land, Which thus bedeck'd with a gay garland _Let us servire cantico._ _Caput apri defero_ _Reddens laudes domino._
Our steward hath provided this In honor of the King of bliss; Which on this day to be served is _In Reginensi Atrio._ _Caput apri defero_ _Reddens laudes domino._
SUNG AT ST. JOHN'S COLLEGE, OXFORD, CHRISTMAS, 1607.
The boar is dead, So, here is his head; What man could have done more Than his head off to strike, Meleager-like, And bring it as I do before.
He living spoiled Where good men toiled, Which made kind Ceres sorry; But now dead and drawn Is very good brawn, And we have brought it for ye.
Then set down the swineyard, The foe to the vineyard, Let Bacchus crown his fall; Let this boar's head and mustard Stand for pig, goose, and custard, And so ye are welcome all.
Maids, get up and bake your pies, Bake your pies, bake your pies; Maids, get up and bake your pies, 'Tis Christmas day in the morning.
See the ships all sailing by, Sailing by, sailing by; See the ships all sailing by On Christmas day in the morning.
Dame, what made your ducks to die, Ducks to die, ducks to die; Dame, what made your ducks to die On Christmas day in the morning?
You let your lazy maidens lie, Maidens lie, maidens lie; You let your lazy maidens lie On Christmas day in the morning.
All hail to the days that merit more praise Than all the rest of the year, And welcome the nights that double delights As well for the poor as the peer! Good fortune attend each merry-man's friend, That doth but the best that he may; Forgetting old wrongs, with carols and songs, To drive the cold winter away.