Here's a health unto our master, the founder of the feast.
We hope to God with all our hearts his soul in heav'n may rest;
That all his works may prosper, whatever he takes in hand,
For we are all his servants, and all at his command.
So drink, boys, drink,  And see that you do not spill
For if you do you shall drink two, for 'tis our master's will.

And now we've drunk our master's health, why should out missus go free?
For why shouldn't she go the heaven, to heaven as well as he?
She is a good purvider, abroad as well as at home,
So fill your cup and sup it up, for 'tis our havest home.
So drink, boys, drink,  And see that you do not spill
For if you do you shall drink two, for 'tis our master's will.

abc | midi | pdf

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Source: Lucy Broadwood and J A Fuller Maitland. 1893, English County Songs, Leadenhall Press, London

Notes:
Lucy Broadwood wrote:

At the harvest suppers, up to some twenty years ago [c 1873], while the guests were still seated at the table a labourer carrying a jug or can of beer or cider filled a horn for every two men, one each side of the table; as they drank, this old harvest song was sung, and the chorus repeated, until the man with the beer had reached the end of the long table, involving perhaps some thirty repetitions of the first verse. After this, the second verse was sung in the same manner.  The words and tune occur all over the country, and are in many collections.  The introductory symphony [shown here as additional ABC] gives the form of a chorus in a Gloucester version, sent by F Scarlett Potter Esq.

Roud: 310 (Search Roud index at VWML) Take Six
Laws:
Child: