Ballad of Proverbs

Goats scratch until they spoil their bed ;
Pitcher to well too oft we send :
The iron's heated till it's red
And hammered till in twain it rend :
The tree grows as the twig we b«nd :
Men journey till they disappear
Even from the memory of a friend :
We shout out 'Noel' till it's here.

Some mock until their hearts do bleed :
Some are so frank that they offend:
Some waste until they come to need :
A promised gift is ill to spend :
Some love God till from church they trend :
Wind shifts until to North it veer :
Till forced to borrow do we lend :
We shout out 'Noel' till it's here.

Dogs fawn on us till them we feed :
Song's sung until by heart it's kenned :
Fruit's kept until it rot to seed :
The leagured place falls in the end :
Folk linger till the occasion wend :
Haste oft throws all things out of gear:
One clips until the grasp's o'erstrained :
We shout out 'Noel' till it's here.

Envoi
Prince, fools live so long that they mend :
They go so far that they draw near :
They're cozened till they apprehend:
We shout out 'Noel' till it's here.