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Famous Wassail Poems by Famous Poets

These are examples of famous Wassail poems written by some of the greatest and most-well-known modern and classical poets. PoetrySoup is a great educational poetry resource of famous wassail poems. These examples illustrate what a famous wassail poem looks like and its form, scheme, or style (where appropriate).

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by Field, Eugene
...s from west and east
And other foreign parts,
Come share the rapture of our feast,
The love of loyal hearts;
And in the wassail that suspends
All matters burthensome,
We 'll drink a health to good old friends
And good friends yet to come.
Clink, clink, clink!
To fellowship we drink!
And from the bowl
No genial soul
In such an hour will shrink.
Clink, clink, clink!
Merrily let us drink!
There's fellowship
In every sip
Of friendship's brew, we think....Read more of this...



by Sorley, Charles
..., past the wood and chalkpit tiny,
A glimpse of Marlborough --!
So I descend beneath the rail
To warmth and welcome and wassail.

This from the battered trenches - rough,
Jingling and tedious enough.
And so I sign myself to you:
One, who some crooked pathways knew
Round Bedwyn: who could scarcely leave
The Downs on a December eve:
Was at his happiest in shorts,
And got - not many good reports!
Small skill of rhyming in his hand -
But you'll forgive - you'll understand...Read more of this...

by Herrick, Robert
...and with holly;
That tells of winter's tales and mirth
That milk-maids make about the hearth;
Of Christmas sports, the wassail-bowl,
That toss'd up, after Fox-i'-th'-hole;
Of Blind-man-buff, and of the care
That young men have to shoe the Mare;
Of twelf-tide cakes, of pease and beans,
Wherewith ye make those merry scenes,
Whenas ye chuse your king and queen,
And cry out, 'Hey for our town green!'--
Of ash-heaps, in the which ye use
Husbands and wives by streaks to chuse;
Of ...Read more of this...

by Herrick, Robert
...and with holly;
That tells of winter's tales and mirth
That milk-maids make about the hearth;
Of Christmas sports, the wassail-bowl,
That toss'd up, after Fox-i'-th'-hole;
Of Blind-man-buff, and of the care
That young men have to shoe the Mare;
Of twelf-tide cakes, of pease and beans,
Wherewith ye make those merry scenes,
Whenas ye chuse your king and queen,
And cry out, 'Hey for our town green!'--
Of ash-heaps, in the which ye use
Husbands and wives by streaks to chuse;
Of ...Read more of this...

by Herrick, Robert
...r> Troth, bad are both; worse fruit, and ill the tree:
The feast of shepherds fail. SIL. None crowns the cup
Of wassail now, or sets the quintel up:
And he, who used to lead the country-round,
Youthful Mirtillo, here he comes, grief-drown'd.
AMBO. Let's cheer him up. SIL. Behold him weeping-ripe.
MIRT. Ah, Amarillis! farewell mirth and pipe;
Since thou art gone, no more I mean to play
To these smooth lawns, my mirthful roundelay.
Dear Amari...Read more of this...



by Field, Eugene
...doe,
Ye canvass hamme he them did serve, and many good things moe.
Until at last Kyng Arthure cried: "Let bring my wassail cup,
And let ye sound of joy go round,--I'm going to set 'em up!
I've pipes of Malmsey, May-wine, sack, metheglon, mead, and sherry,
Canary, Malvoisie, and Port, swete Muscadelle and perry;
Rochelle, Osey, and Romenay, Tyre, Rhenish, posset too,
With kags and pails of foaming ales of brown October brew.
To wine and beer and other cheere I pray yo...Read more of this...

by Herrick, Robert
...eloved beet, 
To be more sweet. 
'Tis Thou that crown'st my glitt'ring hearth 
With guiltless mirth; 
And giv'st me wassail bowls to drink, 
Spic'd to the brink. 
Lord, 'tis Thy plenty-dropping hand 
That soils my land; 
And giv'st me, for my bushel sown, 
Twice ten for one; 
Thou mak'st my teeming hen to lay 
Her egg each day; 
Besides my healthful ewes to bear 
Me twins each year; 
The while the conduits of my kine 
Run cream (for wine.) 
All these, and better T...Read more of this...

by Clare, John
...laugh to raise
Wears his hump back and tinkling bell

And oft for pence and spicy ale
Wi winter nosgays pind before
The wassail singer tells her tale
And drawls her christmass carrols oer
The prentice boy wi ruddy face
And ryhme bepowderd dancing locks
From door to door wi happy pace
Runs round to claim his 'christmass box'

The block behind the fire is put
To sanction customs old desires
And many a faggots bands are cut
For the old farmers christmass fires
Where loud tongd g...Read more of this...

by Manrique, Jorge
...golden bounties without stinting,
The strongholds and the lairs of kings
With treasure glutted;
The flagons of their wassail glinting,
The sceptres, orbs, and crowns, and rings
With which they strutted;

The steeds, the spurs, and bits to rein them,
The pillions draped unto the ground
Beneath their paces,—
Ah, whither must we fare to gain them?—
That were but as the dews around
The meadow places.

His brother then, the unoffending,
Who was intruded on his reign...Read more of this...

by Tennyson, Alfred Lord
...
A little spare the night I loved,
And hold it solemn to the past.

But let no footstep beat the floor,
Nor bowl of wassail mantle warm;
For who would keep an ancient form
Thro' which the spirit breathes no more?

Be neither song, nor game, nor feast;
Nor harp be touch'd, nor flute be blown;
No dance, no motion, save alone
What lightens in the lucid east

Of rising worlds by yonder wood.
Long sleeps the summer in the seed;
Run out your measured arcs, and lead
The clos...Read more of this...

by Byron, George (Lord)
...nd welcome in no shape.
And, strange to say, the sons of pleasure,
They who have revelled beyond measure
In beauty, wassail, wine, and treasure,
Die calm, or calmer, oft than he
Whose heritage was misery.
For he who hath in turn run through 
All that was beautiful and new,
Hath nought to hope, and nought to leave; 
And, save the future, (which is viewed 
Not quite as men are base or good, 
But as their nerves may be endued,)
With nought perhaps to grieve:
The wretch s...Read more of this...

by Longfellow, Henry Wadsworth
...s Priest.

He was quarrelsome and loud,
And impatient of control,
Boisterous in the market crowd,
Boisterous at the wassail-bowl,
Everywhere
Would drink and swear,
Swaggering Thangbrand, Olaf's Priest.

In his house this malcontent
Could the King no longer bear,
So to Iceland he was sent
To convert the heathen there,
And away
One summer day
Sailed this Thangbrand, Olaf's Priest.

There in Iceland, o'er their books
Pored the people day and night,
But he did not lik...Read more of this...

by Herrick, Robert
...ith garlands graced;
Thy Morris-dance; thy Whitsun-ale;
Thy shearing-feast, which never fail.
Thy harvest home; thy wassail bowl,
That's toss'd up after Fox i' th' hole:
Thy mummeries; thy Twelve-tide kings
And queens; thy Christmas revellings:
Thy nut-brown mirth, thy russet wit,
And no man pays too dear for it.--
To these, thou hast thy times to go
And trace the hare i' th' treacherous snow:
Thy witty wiles to draw, and get
The lark into the trammel net:
Thou hast t...Read more of this...

by Service, Robert William
...thing that will live?"

Smith had a friend, we'll call him Brown; dearer than brothers were those two.
When in the wassail Smith would drown, Brown would rescue and pull him through.
When Brown was needful Smith would lend; so it fell as the years went by,
Each on the other would depend: then at the last Smith came to die.

There Brown sat in the sick man's room, still as a stone in his despair;
Smith bent on him his eyes of doom, shook back his lion mane of hair...Read more of this...

by Lanier, Sidney
...compromise,
And, last, had bidden all the Arch-priest's troop
To come and banquet with him in his house,
Where they did wassail high by night and day
And Father Pope sat at the board and carved
Midst jokes that flowed full greasily,
And priest and soldier trolled good songs for mass,
And all the prayers the Priests made were, `pray, drink,'
And all the oaths the Soldiers swore were, `drink!'
Till Mirth sat like a jaunty postillon
Upon the back of Time and urged him on
With pi...Read more of this...

by Longfellow, Henry Wadsworth
...m the neighboring kloster
Rang for the Nativity.

In the hall, the serf and vassal
Held, that night their Christmas wassail;
Many a carol, old and saintly,
Sang the minstrels and the waits;

And so loud these Saxon gleemen
Sang to slaves the songs of freemen,
That the storm was heard but faintly,
Knocking at the castle-gates.

Till at length the lays they chanted
Reached the chamber terror-haunted,
Where the monk, with accents holy,
Whispered at the baron's ear.

...Read more of this...

by Tennyson, Alfred Lord
...rs echoed frosty feet, 
And our long walks were stript as bare as brooms, 
We did but talk you over, pledge you all 
In wassail; often, like as many girls-- 
Sick for the hollies and the yews of home-- 
As many little trifling Lilias--played 
Charades and riddles as at Christmas here, 
And ~what's my thought~ and ~when~ and ~where~ and ~how~, 
As here at Christmas.' 
She remembered that: 
A pleasant game, she thought: she liked it more 
Than magic music, forfeits, all the...Read more of this...

by Longfellow, Henry Wadsworth
...was the life we led; 45 
Many the souls that sped, 
Many the hearts that bled, 
By our stern orders. 

"Many a wassail-bout 
Wore the long Winter out; 50 
Often our midnight shout 
Set the cocks crowing, 
As we the Berserk's tale 
Measured in cups of ale, 
Draining the oaken pail, 55 
Filled to o'erflowing. 

"Once as I told in glee 
Tales of the stormy sea, 
Soft eyes did gaze on me, 
Burning yet tender; 60 
And as the white stars shine 
On the dar...Read more of this...

by Chesterton, G K
...and desire of life 
As that Virginian climber on our walls 
Flames scarlet with the fading of the year; 
Called for his wassail and that other weed 
Virginian also, from the western woods 
Where English Raleigh checked the boast of Spain, 
And lighting joy with joy, and piling up 
Pleasure as crown for pleasure, bade me bring 
Those three, the minstrels whose emblazoned coats 
Shone with the oyster-shells of Colchester; 
And these three played, and playing grew more fain 
Of ...Read more of this...

by Wignesan, T
...in the August river
Washing on the mountain tin.

Now on the growing granite's precipitous face
In our vigilant wassail
Remember the children downstream playing
Where your own little voices are speechless lingering

Let it not be simply said that a river flows
to flourish a land
More than that he who is high at the source
take heed:
For a river putrid in the cradle is worse
than the plunging flooding rain.

And the eclectic monsoons may have come
Have ...Read more of this...

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