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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.
Bold Christmas is past,
Twelfth Night is the last,
And we bid you adieu,
Great joy to the New.
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