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!"
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I am from Massachusetts,
The land of the sacred cod,
There the Adamses snub the Abootts
read more
I am from Massachusetts,
The land of the sacred cod,
There the Adamses snub the Abootts
And the Cabots walk with God.
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.
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.
Some have meat but cannot eat;
Some could eat but have no meat;
We have meat and read more
Some have meat but cannot eat;
Some could eat but have no meat;
We have meat and can all eat;
Blest, therefore, be God for our meat.
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.
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.
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 maiden of bashful fifteen;
Here's to the widow of fifty;
Here's to the flaunting, read more
Here's to the maiden of bashful fifteen;
Here's to the widow of fifty;
Here's to the flaunting, extravagant quean;
And here's to the housewife that's thrifty.
(Chorus:) Let the toast pass,--
Drink to the lass,
I'll warrant she'll prove an excuse for the glass.
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."
