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CHRISTMAS LAMENTATIONS Christmas is my name, far have I gone, have I gone, have I gone Have I gone without regard Whereas great men by flocks there be flown, there be flown, there be flown There be flown to London-ward There they in pomp and pleasure do waste That which old Christmas was wont to feast Welladay, welladay, welladay, where should I stay? Houses where music was wont to ring Nothing but bats and howlets do sing Welladay, welladay, welladay, where should I stay? Christmas beef and bread is turn'd to stones, into stones, into stones Into stones and silken rags And Lady Money sleeps and makes moans, and makes moans, and makes moans And makes moans in miser's bags Houses where pleasures once did abound Naught but a dog and a shepherd are found Welladay, welladay, welladay, where should I stay? Places where Christmas revels did keep Are now become habitations for sheep Welladay, welladay, welladay, where should I stay? @seasonal @Xmas filename[ XMASLMNT AJS |
Christmas's Lamentation (taken from Chappell's Popular Music of the Olden Time (1859)) |
