Punch's Christmas Carol, 1846
Lyrics by Percival Leigh
Here comes Christmas ancient, jolly,
Crown'd with mistletoe and holly.
Oh! the pleasure, oh! the treat,
To behold the joints of meat
With a concourse whilst we stop,
Gazing at each butcher's shop,
And the turkey-laden coaches
Thickly thronging Town's approaches;
But a crowd too numerous
Answers: "What is that to us!"
Answers: "What is that to us!"
In each grocer's window, see
What a heap of spicery!
Citron, cloves and cinnamon
What a sight to look upon!
Candied orangepeel and plums,
Nutmegs, raisins, figs in drums
What delicious visions rise
Of plum puddings and mince pies!
Ah! but thousands answer thus:
"Welladay! What's that to us?"
"Welladay! What's that to us?"
Some, alas, there are to whom
Christmas brings but cold and gloom,
No warm fire and no good cheer,
Though it comes but once a year.
Gentlefolks, suppose we try
If we cannot change their cry
And provide them with a reason
Thus to hail the jovial season:
"Christmas, though necessitous,
Thou art something still to us!"
Thou art something still to us!"
