The Whimple Wassail lyrics

A wassail a wassail, the moon she shines down Our apples are ripe and our nuts they are brown For when you shall bud dear old apple tree And when you shall bear we’ll sing unto thee With our wassail a-wassail a-wassail And joy come to our jolly wassail! Oh apple tree prosper, bud, bloom and bear So we may have plenty of cider next year And where there’s a barrel we hope there’ll be ten So we may have cider when we come again Oh mistress and master our wassail begin Please open your door and let us come in Besides all on earth you’ll have apples in store