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.
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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.
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.
Life, lift the full goblet--away with all sorrow--
The circle of friendship what freedom would sever?
To-day read more
Life, lift the full goblet--away with all sorrow--
The circle of friendship what freedom would sever?
To-day is our own, and a fig for to-morrow--
Here's to the Fourth and our country forever.
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.
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.'
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.
Here's a health to the lass with the merry black eyes!
Here's a health to the lad with the read more
Here's a health to the lass with the merry black eyes!
Here's a health to the lad with the blue ones!
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.
