So now is come our joyful’st feast;
  Let every man be jolly;
Each room with ivy-leaves is drest,
  And every post with holly.
Though some churls at our mirth repine,
Round your foreheads garlands twine,
Drown sorrow in a cup of wine,
  And let us all be merry.

Now all our neighbors’ chimneys smoke,
  And Christmas...