Gathering The Sweet Mistletoe

For Christmas

From a Scottish Broadside, ca. 1880-1900

Source: "The Word on the Street," The National Library of Scotland

Now, often I 'm asked why I 'm always so sad
When jolly King Christmas is near,
And why I prefer the country to town
At this happy time of the year ?
Just listen, I 'll tell you. 'twas at Christmas I fell
In love with my dear, little Lou,
In a dear country glade when together we strayed
Gathering the sweet mistletoe.

Chorus.
When the snow lightly fell over woodland and dell,.
And icicles hung on the bough,
I woo'd my sweet bride as she tripped by my side
Gathering the sweet mistletoe.

I ne'er shall forget that bright happy time,
All nature seemed buoyant and gay,
The snow on the ground, like a carpet of white,
In rich spotless purity lay.
We tripped on our way, and Cupid held sway,
Love's magic round us he did throw,
And my love I displayed in that sweet rural glade
'Neath the shade of a mistletoe bough.

As I whispered my love to this gentle maid
She gave me a look so divine,
And blushingly said, while hanging her head,
"Dear tom, love, for ever i'm thine."
Just then I did twig a mistletoe sprig,
And plucking it forth in my glee,
I kiss'd little Lou, 'neath the mistletoe bough,

When none but the robins did see.
Since then we are married and bright is my lot,
For Lou is a dear little wife,
And happy together we go jogging on
Unfearing dark sorrow or strife.
And now every year when Christmas is near
And friends gather round me and Lou,
I tell them with pride how I won my sweet bride
Whilst gathering the sweet mistletoe.

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