The speaker greets Christmas as a release from study, worry, and everyday restraint. He wants the day to erase distinctions of rank and wealth: everyone should share what they have, the rich should give freely, and no food or drink is too good for the poor. The mood is warm, boisterous, and generous. He feels light as “a singing bird” and urges spending instead of saving, making friends of enemies, and drinking without measuring limits. Clothing and social status fall away—he jokes that souls will “swim stark naked in the bowls.” The repeated farewell to books and pens and welcome to “all kinds of men” makes Christmas feel like a temporary, lively feast where the only rule is to eat, drink, and be merry together.
Christmas — Summary
Christmas has come, let's eat and drink-- This is no time to sit and think; Farewell to study, books and pen, And welcome to all kinds of men. Let all men now get rid of care, And what one has let others share; Then 'tis the same, no matter which Of us is poor, or which is rich. Let each man have enough this day, Since those that can are glad to pay; There's nothing now too rich or good For poor men, not the King's own food. Now like a singing bird my feet Touch earth, and I must drink and eat. Welcome to all men: I'll not care What any of my fellows wear; We'll not let cloth divide our souls, They'll swim stark naked in the bowls. Welcome, poor beggar: I'll not see That hand of yours dislodge a flea,-- While you sit at my side and beg, Or right foot scratching your left leg. Farewell restraint: we will not now Measure the ale our brains allow, But drink as much as we can hold. We'll count no change when we spend gold; This is no time to save, but spend, To give for nothing, not to lend. Let foes make friends: let them forget The mischief-making dead that fret The living with complaint like this-- "He wronged us once, hate him and his." Christmas has come; let every man Eat, drink, be merry all he can. Ale's my best mark, but if port wine Or whisky's yours--let it be mine; No matter what lies in the bowls, We'll make it rich with our own souls. Farewell to study, books and pen, And welcome to all kinds of men.