Ballade of Yule
This life’s most jolly, Amiens said,Heigh-ho, the Holly! So sang he.As the good Duke was comfortedIn forest exile, so may we!The years may darken as they flee,And Christmas bring his melancholy:But round the old mahogany treeWe drink, we sing Heigh-ho, the Holly!
Though some are dead and some are fledTo lands of summer over sea,The holly berry keeps his red,The merry children keep their glee;They hoard with artless secresyThis gift for Maude, and that for Molly,And Santa Claus he turns the keyOn Christmas Eve, Heigh-ho, the Holly!
Amid the snow the birds are fed,The snow lies deep on lawn and lea,The skies are shining overhead,The robin’s tame that was so free.Far North, at home, the ‘barley bree’They brew; they give the hour to folly,How ‘Rab and Allan cam to pree,’They sing, we sing Heigh-ho, the Holly!