OLD FOX WASSAIL

Down in the old lane there sits and old fox,
A-mounching and licking his dirty old chops.

Shall we go catch him my boys if we can?
Ten thousand to one if we catch him or none.

Catch im or none, catch him or none,
Ten thousand to one if we catch him or none.

Wassail, wassail all over the town,
Our cup it is white and our ale it is brown.

The great dog of Langport has burnt off his tail,
And this is the night we go singing wassail,

I will go home to old mother Joan,
And tell her to put on the big marrow bone.

Boil it, an boil it, and skim off the scum,
And we will have porridge when we do go home.

Home my boys, home, home my boys home,
And we will have porridge when we do go home.

Wassail, wassail all over the town
Our cup it is white and our ale it is brown

Spoken:
Bud, blossom, bloom and bear,
Ready to tear,
So that we shall have apples and cider next year,
At-fuls, cap-fulls, three-bushel bag-fuls,
Little heaps under the stairs,
Cider running out gutter-holes,
Hip, Hip, Hurrah.

-Noted by Cecil J. Sharp, Sung by Mr. Charles Ash, Crowcombe,
Somerset, Sept. 15th, 1908, Journal of the Folk Song Society,
B 1914-16, No.18, Jan. 1914, 11. Wassail Song, Second Version.,pp. 28-30.

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