Lordings, From A Distant Home
A Translation Of Seignors Ore Entendez À Nus, from Douce's llustrations of Shakespeare (MS. Reg. 16, E. viii, 13th century).
Source: William Sandys, Christmas-tide, Its History, Festivities and Carols, With Their Music (London: John Russell Smith, 1852), pp. 217-8
1. Lordings, from a distant home,
To seek old Christmas We are come,
Who loves our minstrelsy:
And here, unless report mis-say,
The grey-beard dwells, and on this day,
Keeps yearly wassail, ever gay,
With festive mirth and glee.
To all who honour Christmas, and commend our lays,
Love will his blessings send, and crown with joy their days.
2. Lordings list, for we tell you true,
Christmas loves the jolly crew
That cloudy care defy:
His liberal board is deftly spread
With manchet loves and wastel-bread;
His guests with fish and flesh are fed,
Nor lack the stately pye.
3. Lordings, you know that far and near,
The saying is, "Who gives good cheer,
And freely spends his treasure;
On him will bounteous Heaven bestow
Twice treble blessings here below;
His happy hours shall sweetly flow,
In never-ceasing pleasure."
4. Lordings, believe us, knaves abound,
In every place are flatterers found,
May all their arts be vain!
But chiefly from these scenes of joy,
Chase sordid souls that mirth alloy,
Turn pleasure into pain.
5. Christmas quaffs our English wines,
Nor Gascoigne juice, nor French declines,
Nor liquor of Anjou:
He puts th' insidious goblet round,
Till all the guests in sleep are drown'd
Then wakes 'em with the tabor's sound,
And plays the prank anew.
6. Lordings, it is our host's command,
And Christmas joins him hand in hand,
To drain the brimming bowl:
And I'll be foremost to obey:
Then pledge me, sirs, and drink away,
For Christmas revels here to day,
And sways without controul.
Now wassel to you all, and merry may be ye!
But foul that wight befall, who drainks not health to me!
William Hone also reproduces three of these verses from Douce in his entry for December 25 in Volume 1.
Also found in William Hone, The Every Day Book, 2 Vols. London: William Tegg, 1825, 1827. A second translation:
Now, lordings, listen to our ditty,
Strangers coming from afar;
Let poor minstrels move your pity,
Give us welcome, soothe our care:
In this mansion, as they tell us,
Christmas wassell keeps to day;
And, as the king of all good fellows,
Reigns with uncontrouled sway.Lordings, in these realms of pleasure,
Father Christmas yearly dwells;
Deals out joy with liberal measure,
Gloomy sorrow soon dispels:
Numerous guests, and viands dainty,
Fill the hall and grace the board;
Mirth and beauty, peace and plenty,
Solid pleasures here afford.Lordings, 'tis said the liberal mind,
That on the needy much bestows,
From Heav'n a sure reward shall find;
From Heav'n, whence ev'ry blessing flows.
Who largely gives with willing hand,
Or quickly gives with willing heart,
His fame shall spread throughout the land,
His memory thence shall ne'er depart.Lordings, grant not your protection
To a base, unworthy crew,
But cherish, with a kind affection,
Men that are loyal, good, and true.
Chace from your hospitable dwelling
Swinish souls, that ever crave;
Virtue they can ne'er excel in,
Gluttons never can be brave.Lordings, Christmas loves good drinking,
Wines of Gascoigne, France, Anjou,1
English ale, that drives out thinking,
Prince of liquors old or new.
Every neighbour shares the bowl,
Drinks of the spicy liquor deep,
Drinks his fill without controul,
Till he drowns his care in sleep.And now—by Christmas, jolly soul!
By this mansion's generous sire!
By the wine, and by the bowl,
And all the joys they both inspire!
Here I'll drink a health to all.
The glorious task shall first be mine:
And ever may foul luck befal
Him that to pledge me shall decline!THE CHORUS.
Hail, father Christmas! hail to thee!
Honour'd ever shalt thou be!
All the sweets that love bestows,
Endless pleasures, wait on those
Who, like vassals brave and true,
Give to Christmas homage due.
1. “My fond shepherds of late were so blest.” A favourite air in Dr. Arne's “Eliza.” Return
