The DayPoems Poetry Collection Timothy Bovee, editor www.daypoems.net Click on the bonsai for the next poem. DayPoems Forum Click to submit poems to DayPoems, comment on DayPoems or a poem within, comment on other poetry sites, update links, or simply get in touch. DayPoems Forum. Poetry Whirl
Indexes
Poetry Places
Nodes powered by
|
D a y P o e m s * D a y P o e m s * D a y P o e m s * D a y P o e m s * D a y P o e m s * D a y P o e m s * D a y P o e m s |
Won't you help support DayPoems? Wassail Chorus at the Mermaid TavernBy Theodore Watts-Dunton1836-1914CHRISTMAS knows a merry, merry place, Where he goes with fondest face, Brightest eye, brightest hair: Tell the Mermaid where is that one place, Where? Raleigh. 'Tis by Devon's glorious halls, Whence, dear Ben, I come again: Bright of golden roofs and walls-- El Dorado's rare domain-- Seem those halls when sunlight launches Shafts of gold thro' leafless branches, Where the winter's feathery mantle blanches Field and farm and lane. CHORUS. Christmas knows a merry, merry place, &c. Drayton. 'Tis where Avon's wood-sprites weave Through the boughs a lace of rime, While the bells of Christmas Eve Fling for Will the Stratford-chime O'er the river-flags emboss'd Rich with flowery runes of frost-- O'er the meads where snowy tufts are toss'd-- Strains of olden time. CHORUS. Christmas knows a merry, merry place, &c. Shakespeare's Friend. 'Tis, methinks, on any ground Where our Shakespeare's feet are set. There smiles Christmas, holly-crown'd With his blithest coronet: Friendship's face he loveth well: 'Tis a countenance whose spell Sheds a balm o'er every mead and dell Where we used to fret. CHORUS. Christmas knows a merry, merry place, &c. Heywood. More than all the pictures, Ben, Winter weaves by wood or stream, Christmas loves our London, when Rise thy clouds of wassail-steam-- Clouds like these, that, curling, take Forms of faces gone, and wake Many a lay from lips we loved, and make London like a dream. CHORUS. Christmas knows a merry, merry place, &c. Ben Jonson. Love's old songs shall never die, Yet the new shall suffer proof: Love's old drink of Yule brew I Wassail for new love's behoof. Drink the drink I brew, and sing Till the berried branches swing, Till our song make all the Mermaid ring-- Yea, from rush to roof. FINALE. Christmas loves this merry, merry place; Christmas saith with fondest face, Brightest eye, brightest hair: 'Ben, the drink tastes rare of sack and mace: Rare!' DayPoems Poem No. 755 Comment on DayPoems? If you are like us, you have strong feelings about poetry, and about each poem you read. Let it all out! Comment on this poem, any poem, DayPoems, other poetry places or the art of poetry at DayPoems Feedback. Won't you help support DayPoems? Click here to learn more about how you can keep DayPoems on the Web . . . Copyright The DayPoems web site, www.daypoems.net, is copyright 2001-2005 by Timothy K. Bovee. All rights reserved. The authors of poetry and other material appearing on DayPoems retain full rights to their work. Any requests for publication in other venues must be negotiated separately with the authors. The editor of DayPoems will gladly assist in putting interested parties in contact with the authors. |
The Online Bonsai Icon Collection http://www.hav.com/tobic.html |