| A-wassail, a-wassail throughout all the town
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| Our cup it is white and our ale it is brown
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| Our wassail is made of the good ale and cake
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| Some nutmeg and ginger, the best we could bake
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| Fol dedol dol dedol Dol dedol dol de dol
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| Fol de de ro Fol de da ri
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| Sing too ra li o
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| Our wassail is made of the elderberry bough
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| And so my good neighbors we’ll drink unto thou
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| Besides all on earth, you have apples in store
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| Pray let us come in for it’s cold by the door
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| We hope that your apple trees prosper and bear
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| So that we may have cider when we call next year
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| And where you have one barrel we hope you’ll have ten
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| So that we may have cider when we call again
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| There’s a master and a mistress sitting down by the fire
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| While we poor wassail boys stand here in the mire
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| Come you pretty maid with your silver headed pin
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| Pray open the door and let us come in
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| It’s we poor wassail boys so weary and cold
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| Please drop some small silver into our bowl
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| And if we survive for another new year
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| Perhaps we may call and see who does live here
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| We know by the moon that we are not too soon
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| And we know by the sky that we are not too high
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| And we know by the star that we are not too far
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| And we know by the ground that we are within sound |