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L'Abbe de Ville proposed a toast,
His master, as the rising Sun:
Reisbach then gave the Empress read more
L'Abbe de Ville proposed a toast,
His master, as the rising Sun:
Reisbach then gave the Empress Queen,
As the bright moon and much praise won.
The Earl of Stair, whose turn next came,
Gave for his toast his own King Will,
As Joshua the sun of Nun,
Who made both Sun and Moon stand still.
Drink to me only with thine eyes,
And I will pledge with mine;
Or leave a kiss read more
Drink to me only with thine eyes,
And I will pledge with mine;
Or leave a kiss but in the cup,
And I'll not look for wine.
Here's to France, the moon whose magic rays move the tides of the
world.
Here's to France, the moon whose magic rays move the tides of the
world.
Here's to our beloved George Washington, the Joshua of America,
who commanded the sun and the moon to sand read more
Here's to our beloved George Washington, the Joshua of America,
who commanded the sun and the moon to sand still--and they
obeyed.
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!"
A glass is good, and a lass is good,
And a pipe to smoke in cold weather;
read more
A glass is good, and a lass is good,
And a pipe to smoke in cold weather;
The world is good and the people are good,
And we're all good fellows together.
And he that will this health deny,
Down among the dead men let him lie.
And he that will this health deny,
Down among the dead men let him lie.
I fill this cup to one made up
Of loveliness alone,
A woman, of her gentle sex
read more
I fill this cup to one made up
Of loveliness alone,
A woman, of her gentle sex
The seeming paragon;
To whom the better elements
And kindly stars have given
A form so fair that, like the air,
'Tis less of earth than heaven.
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.