Which to good-fellows and the poor
  That was so frank and free.
Thou lovedst pastime with thy heart,
  And eke good company;
Pray hold me up for fear I swoon,
  For I am like to die.

Come, butler, fill a brimmer up
  To cheer my fainting heart,
That to old Christmas I may drink
  Before he doth depart;
And let each one that's in this room
  With me likewise condole.
And for to cheer their spirits sad
  Let each one drink a bowl.

And when the same it hath gone round
  Then fall unto your cheer,
For you do know that Christmas time
  It comes but once a year.
But this good draught which I have drunk
  Hath comforted my heart,
For I was very fearful that
  My stomach would depart.

Thanks to my master and my dame
  That doth such cheer afford;
God bless them, that each Christmas they
  May furnish thus their board.
My stomach having come to me,
  I mean to have a bout,
Intending to eat most heartily;
  Good friends, I do not flout.