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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.
Here's to old Adam's crystal ale,
Clear sparkling and divine,
Fair H2O, long may you flow,
read more
Here's to old Adam's crystal ale,
Clear sparkling and divine,
Fair H2O, long may you flow,
We think your health (in wine).
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."
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.
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.'
Ho! stand to your glasses steady!
'Tis all we have left to prize.
A cup to the read more
Ho! stand to your glasses steady!
'Tis all we have left to prize.
A cup to the dead already,--
Hurrah for the next that dies.
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.
Waes-hael! for Lord and Dame!
O! merry be their Dole;
Drink-hael! in Jesu's name,
read more
Waes-hael! for Lord and Dame!
O! merry be their Dole;
Drink-hael! in Jesu's name,
And fill the tawny bowl.
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.