I am from Massachusetts,
The land of the sacred cod,
There the Adamses snub the Abootts
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I am from Massachusetts,
The land of the sacred cod,
There the Adamses snub the Abootts
And the Cabots walk with God.

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.

You to the left and I to the right,
For the ways of men must sever--
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You to the left and I to the right,
For the ways of men must sever--
And it may be for a day and a night,
And it well may be forever.
But whether we meet or whether we part,
(For our ways are past our knowing)
A pledge from the heart to its fellow heart,
On the ways we all are going!
Here's luck!
For we know not where we are going.

May the hinges of friendship never rust, or the wings of luve
lose a feather.

May the hinges of friendship never rust, or the wings of luve
lose a feather.

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.

The bubble winked at me, and said,
"You'll miss me brother, when you're dead."

The bubble winked at me, and said,
"You'll miss me brother, when you're dead."

Give me the cups,
And let the kettle to the trumpet speak,
The trumpet to the cannoneer read more

Give me the cups,
And let the kettle to the trumpet speak,
The trumpet to the cannoneer without,
The cannons to the heavens, the heaven to earth,
'Now the king drinks to Hamlet.'

Our federal Union: it must be preserved.

Our federal Union: it must be preserved.

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.