My boat is on the shore,
And my bark is on the sea:
But, before I go, read more

My boat is on the shore,
And my bark is on the sea:
But, before I go, Tom Moore,
Here's a double health to thee!

Here's to you, as good as you are,
And here's to me, as bad as I am;
read more

Here's to you, as good as you are,
And here's to me, as bad as I am;
But as good as you are, and as bad as I am,
I am as good as your are, as bad as I am.

Here's a health to you and yours who have done such things for us
and ours.
And when read more

Here's a health to you and yours who have done such things for us
and ours.
And when we and ours have it in our powers to do for you and
yours what you and yours have done for us and ours,
Then we and ours will do for you and yours what you and yours
have done for us and ours.

Here's a health to all those that we love,
Here's a health to all those that love us,
read more

Here's a health to all those that we love,
Here's a health to all those that love us,
Here's a health to all those that love them that love those
That love them that love those that love us.

Here's to the red of it,
There's not a thread of it,
No, not a shred of read more

Here's to the red of it,
There's not a thread of it,
No, not a shred of it,
In all the spread of it,
From foot to head,
Not heroes bled for it,
Faced steel and lead for it,
Precious blood shed for it,
Bathing in red.

Some hae meat, and canna eat,
And some wad eat that want it;
But we hae meat, read more

Some hae meat, and canna eat,
And some wad eat that want it;
But we hae meat, and we can eat,
And sae the Lord be thankit.

A health to the nut-brown lass,
With the hazel eyes: let it pass.
. . . .
read more

A health to the nut-brown lass,
With the hazel eyes: let it pass.
. . . .
As much to the lively grey
'Tis as good i' th' night as day:
. . . .
She's a savour to the glass,
And excuse to make it pass.

St. Leon raised his kindling eye,
And lifts the sparkling cup on high;
"I drink to one," read more

St. Leon raised his kindling eye,
And lifts the sparkling cup on high;
"I drink to one," he said,
"Whose image never may depart,
Deep graven on this grateful heart,
Till memory be dead."
. . . .
St. Leon paused, as if he would
Not breathe her name in careless mood
Thus lightly to another;
Then bent his noble head, as though
To give the word the reverence due,
And gently said, "My mother!"

Life, lift the full goblet--away with all sorrow--
The circle of friendship what freedom would sever?
To-day read more

Life, lift the full goblet--away with all sorrow--
The circle of friendship what freedom would sever?
To-day is our own, and a fig for to-morrow--
Here's to the Fourth and our country forever.