Joy, health, love, and peace be all here in this place,
By your leave, we will sing, concerning our King.
Our King is well dressed, in silks of the best,
In ribbons so rare, no King can compare.
We have travelled many miles, over hedges and stiles,
In search of our King, unto you we bring.
We have powder and shot, to conquer the lot,
We have cannon and ball, to conquer them all.
Oh, Christmas is past, and twelfth night is here at last,
So we bid you adieu; great joy to all of you!