Now, Now, The Mirth Comes - The Hymns and Carols of Christmas

With buxom 12 meat and cap'ring wine,
Remember us in cups full crown'd,
And let our city-health go round,
Quite through the young maids and the men,
To the ninth number, if not ten;
Until the fired chestnuts leap
For joy to see the fruits ye reap,
From the plump chalice and the cup
That tempts till it be tossed up. ‒
Then as ye sit about your embers,
Call not to mind those fled Decembers;
But think on these, that are t' appear,
As daughters to the instant year;
Sit crowned with rose-buds, and carouse,
Till Liber Pater 13 twirls the house
About your ears, and lay upon
The year, your cares, that's fled and gone:
And let the russet swains the plough
And harrow hang up resting now;
And to the bag-pipe all address,
Till sleep takes place of weariness.
And thus throughout, with Christmas plays,
Frolic the full twelve holidays.
Note:
Christmas Poetry By Robert Herrick
Concerning the reference to “Of ash-heaps, in the which ye use,” Bullen notes at page 270:
12. Tender.
"William Browne (in one of his sonnets to Celia) alludes to this curious mode of
divination
13. Father Bacchus.
“If, forced by our sighs, the flame shall fly
Of our kind love and get within thy rind,
Be wary, gentle Bay, and shriek riot high
When thou dost such unusual fervour find:
Suppress the fire, for, should it take thy leaves,
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