By Mary Howitt
Now he who knows old Christmas,
He knows a carle of worth;
For he is as good a fellow
As any upon earth.
He comes warm cloaked and coated,
And buttoned up to the chin;
And soon as he comes a-nigh the door
We open and let him in.
And with sprigs of holly and ivy
We make the house look gay,
Just out of an old regard for him,
For it was his ancient way.
He must be a rich old fellow,
What money he gives away!
There is not a lord in England
Could equal him any day.
Good luck unto old Christmas,
And long life, let us sing,
For he doth more good unto the poor
Than many a crowned king.
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