Waes-hael! for Lord and Dame!
O! merry be their Dole;
Drink-hael! in Jesu's name,
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Waes-hael! for Lord and Dame!
O! merry be their Dole;
Drink-hael! in Jesu's name,
And fill the tawny bowl.

I'll drink a cup to Scotland yet,
Wi' a' the honours three.

I'll drink a cup to Scotland yet,
Wi' a' the honours three.

Here's to the town of New Haven,
The home of the truth and the light,
Where God read more

Here's to the town of New Haven,
The home of the truth and the light,
Where God speaks to Jones,
In the very same tones,
That he uses with Hadley and Dwight.

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

But the standing toast that pleased me most
Was, "The wind that blows, the ship that goes,
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But the standing toast that pleased me most
Was, "The wind that blows, the ship that goes,
And the lass that loves a sailor!"

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

I come from good old Boston,
The home of the bean and the cod,
Where Cabots speak read more

I come from good old Boston,
The home of the bean and the cod,
Where Cabots speak only to Lowells,
And the Lowells speak only to God.

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