In various parts of Britain a
tradition has been maintained of hunting a wren, ‘the king of the birds’, to
symbolise the death of winter. The wren is then dressed in ribbons and taken
from door to door by ‘wrenboys’, accompanied by the singing of variants of this
song.
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 the silks
of the best
In ribbons so rare, no king can
compare.
We have travelled many miles over hedgerows
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.
Old Christmas is past, Twelfth Night
is the last
And we bid you adieu, great joy to the new.
Beautiful!
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