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The Churn Supper
THE CHURN SUPPER »
God rest you, merry gentlemen !
Be not moved at my strain,
For nothing study shall my brain,
But for to make you laugh : For I come here to this feast, For to laugh, carouse, and jest, And welcome shall be every guest,
To take his cup and quaff.
Chorus Be frolicsome, every one, Melancholy none ; Drink about! Let it out,
And then we'll all go home, And then we'll all go home.
This ale is a gallant thing,
It cheers the spirits of a king,
It makes a dumb man strive to sing,
Aye, and a beggar play ! A cripple that is lame and halt, And scarce a mile a day can walk, When he feels the juice of malt,
Will throw his crutch away.
Chorus. Be frolicsome, etc.
1 From Robert Bell's "Early Songs and Ballads," 1885. George Bell and Sons.
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