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."

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.

My boat is on the shore,
And my bark is on the sea:
But, before I go, read more

My boat is on the shore,
And my bark is on the sea:
But, before I go, Tom Moore,
Here's a double health to thee!

Our country, however bounded.

Our country, however bounded.

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.

Here's to the red of it,
There's not a thread of it,
No, not a shred of read more

Here's to the red of it,
There's not a thread of it,
No, not a shred of it,
In all the spread of it,
From foot to head,
Not heroes bled for it,
Faced steel and lead for it,
Precious blood shed for it,
Bathing in red.

I fill this cup to one made up
Of loveliness alone,
A woman, of her gentle sex
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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.