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."

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!"

May all your labors be in vein.

May all your labors be in vein.

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.

But the standing toast that pleased me most
Was, "The wind that blows, the ship that goes,
read more

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,
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 Great Britain, the sun that gives light to all nations
of the world.

Here's to Great Britain, the sun that gives light to all nations
of the world.

The wind that blows, the ship that goes
And the lass the loves a sailor.

The wind that blows, the ship that goes
And the lass the loves a sailor.

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.