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TOASTS
COMPILED BY
MARGARET WATERS
BREWER, BARSE & COMPANY
CHICAGO
COPYRIGHT 1909
By
BREWER, BARSE & CO.
I think we had the chief of all Love's
joy's,
Only in knowing that we loved each
other. —George Eliot.
The woodnymphs, decked with daisies
trim
Their merry wakes and pastimes keep.
—Milton.
•S *l
Here's to the Auto—may we hear its
toot,
In time to scoot.
"Fair, good, rich and wise is a
woman four stories high."
—French.
« «
Let us wipe out the past, trust in
the future and rejoice in the glorious
Now.
TO THE BACHELOR AND
SPINSTER.
"Here's to the bachelor, so lonely and
gay,
It's not his fault, he was born that
way;
Here's to the spinster, so lonely and
good,
It's not her fault, she hath done what
she could."
I? »?
THE MAN WHO TELLS
From the lowest depths of heaven
To the lowest depths of hell,
Condemned be the man who will kiss
a girl
And straightway go and tell.
K kg
And the gloom of my bachelor days
is flecked with the cheery light
Of stumps that I burned to Friend-
ship and Pleasure and Work and
Fight. —Kipling.
f/fi
Time is short, life is short,
Life is sweet, love is sweet, use to-day
while you may;
Love is sweet, and to-morrow may
fail;
Love is sweet, use to-day.
—RossetL
To every lovely lady bright,
I wish a gallant faithful knight;
To every faithful lover, too,
I wish a trusting lady true.
* *S
Then fill the cup, fill high! fill high!
Let Joy our goblets crown;
We'll bung Misfortune's scowling eye,
And knock Forboding down.
—Lowell.
"They are fools who kiss and tell,"
wisely hath the poet sung,
Man may hold all sorts of posts, if
he'll only hold his tongue.
—Kipling.
Here's to the girl that I love,
And here's to the girl that loves me,
And here's to all those that love her
that I love
And to those that love her that
loves me.
K H
"Everything in the world depends
on woman." —Beaconsfield.
Old books, old wine, old Nankin
blue—
All things, in short, to which belong
The charm, the grace, that time
makes strong,
All these I prize, but (entre nous)
Old friends are best.
—Dobson.
Ship me somewheres east of Suez,
where the best is like the worst,
Where there aren't no ten command-
ments an' a man can raise a thirst.
—Kipling.
OUR MOTHER
Here's to the hand that spanks!
We give our heartfelt thanks.
With well calloused bases
You brave life's rough places—
Here's to the hand that spanks!
ft ft
The hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the earth—
But the hand that holds four aces!—
Bet on it for all you're worth.
ft ft
THE NEW YEAR
God give thee health, prosperity, and
the greatest of all blessings—content-
ment.
ft ft
TO THE NEW WOMAN
If she cannot command a ship of
war, may she always command a
smack.
AMERICA
Our hearts, our hopes are all with
thee,
Our hearts, our hopes, our prayers,
our tears,
Our faith triumphant over our fears,
Are all with thee, are all with thee.
—Lowell.
They talk about a woman's sphere as
though it had a limit;
There's not a place in earth or heaven,
There's not a task to mankind given,
There's not a blessing or a woe,
There's not a whispered yes or no,
There's not a life or birth,
That has a feather's weight of worth—
Without a woman in it.
•t «?
How sweet 't will be, though joys are
thwarted,
And smiles rebuked by sorrow's sigh,
To think, however friends are parted,
At least that friendship cannot die!
William Winter.
Here's to the land which gave me
birth,
Here's to the flag she flies,
Here's to her sons—the best of earth,
Here's to her smiling skies,
Here's to a heart which beats for me,
True as the stars above,
Here's to the day when mine she'll
be,
Here's to the girl I love.
Come fill a bumper, fill it 'round.
May mirth, wine and wit abound.
In them alone true wisdom lies—
For to be merry's to be wise.
H H
Here's to woman, whose heart and
whose soul
Are the light and the life of each
spell we pursue;
Whether sunned at the tropics, or
chilled at the pole,
If woman be there, there is happi-
ness too.
TO THE MAN WHOSE WIFE'S
OUT OF TOWN.
Of all the insidious
Temptations invidious,
Devised by the Devil,
For pulling men down,
There's none more delusive,
• Seductive, abusive,
Than the snare to a man
When his wife's out-of-town.
He feels such delightfulness,
Such stay out all nightfulness,
And sure to get tightfulness,
I own it with pain,
A sort of bach rakishness,
What-will-you-takishness,
It's hard to explain.
His wife may be beautiful,
Tender and dutiful,
It is not her absence
That causes delight,
But the curs'd opportunity,
The baleful immunity,
That scatters his scruples
As day scatters night.
—Lawrence J. Wolfram.
I drink to the days that are!
—William Morris.
« »t
A health to our sweethearts,
Our friends and our wives,
And may fortune smile on them
The rest of their lives.
H *
Here's to God's first thought, Man!
Here's to God's second thought,
Woman!
Second thoughts are always best,
So here's to Woman!
*, *t
The miser may be pleased with gold,
The sporting beau with pretty lass;
But I'm best pleased when I behold
The nectar sparkling in the glass.
May those who are discontented
with their own country, leave their
country for their country's good.
TO THE LADIES
The Ladies, God bless them—that
time-honored toast,
The one to be drunk and applauded
the most,
The Ladies, God bless them, don't
drink it in jest,
For I am toasting tonight the one you
love best.
The mother that bore you, now with-
ered and old,
But dearer by far than all the earth's
gold.
The sister that followed your foot-
steps in life,
But what is still dearer, your brave-
hearted wife.
The Ladies, God bless them, God
bless every one,
May the eye of the Father and the
love of the Son
Watch o'er and protect them—keep
them holy and pure,
With life to sustain and health to
endure.
The Ladies, God bless them.
Here's to the land of the shamrock so
green;
Here's to each lad and his darling col-
leen;
Here's to the ones we love dearest and
most;
And may God save old Ireland—that's
an Irishman's toast.
"From four things God preserve us:
a painted woman, a conceited valet,
salt beef without mustard, and a little
late dinner." —Italian.
The woods are full of fairies,
The sea is full of fish;
But the thing I want is a woman,—
And that's a manly wish.
Here's to our hostess.
Her face would stop a clock.
It is so fair,
That time would long to linger there.
Here's to the widows, too dainty to
touch,
And here's to their bonnets and ruches
and such,
And here's to the shy
Little twist of the eye;
A toast to the widows! they all know
so much!
TO WINE
There are no sorrows wine cannot
allay,
There are no sins wine cannot wash
away,
There are no riddles wine knows not
to read,
There are no debts wine is too poor to
pay. —Le Gallienne.
*. ft
TO MARRIAGE
Here's to the wings of love,
May they never moult a feather
Till your little shoes and my big boots
Are under the bed together.
Here's to the man who is wisest and
best,
Here's to the man who with judgment
is blest.
Here's to the man who's as smart as
can be—
I mean the man who agrees with me.
n *,
If life for me hath joy or light,
"Tisall from thee;
My thoughts by day, my dreams by
night
Are but of thee, of only thee.
—Tom Moore.
* K
I drink to one, and only one,—
And may that one be he
Who loves but one, and only one,—
And may that one be me!
Here's to a good girl—not too good,
For the good die young,
And we don't like dead ones.
"Wal'r, my boy," replied the cap-
tain, "in the Proverbs of Solomon
you will find the following words,
'May we never want a friend, nor a
bottle to give him!' When found
make a note of." —Dickens.
Give him strong drink until he wink,
That's sinking in despair,
An' liquor guid to fire his bluid,
That's prest wi' grief an' care;
There let him bouse, and deep ca-
rouse,
Wi' bumpers flowin' o'er,
Till he forgets his loves or debts,
An' minds his griefs no more.
—(Burns) Solomon's Proverbs.
« K
Here's to the lasses we've loved, my
lad;
Here's to the lips we've pressed;
For of kisses and lasses,
Like liquor in glasses,
The last is always the best.
Here's to the woman whose heart and
whose soul
Are the light and life of each spell we
pursue;
Whether sunn'd at the tropics or
chilled at the poles,
If woman be there, there is happiness
too.
"Love to one, Friendship to a few,
and Good-Will to all."
Woman: The fairest work of the
Great Author; the edition is large, and
no man should be without a copy.
Here's to the man who loves his wife,
And loves his wife alone.
For many a man loves another man's
wife,
When he ought to be loving his
own.
If all your beauties, one by one,
I pledge, dear, I am thinking,
Before the tale were well begun,
I had been dead of drinking.
OUR NATIONAL BIRDS
The American eagle, the Thanksgiv-
ing turkey.
May the one give us peace in all our
states,
And the other a piece for all our
plates.
—Mrs. Jeff McCune.
K •?
May those who'd be rude to Ameri-
can roses
Feel a thorn's fatal prick in their lips
and their noses.
Come fill the glass and drain the bowl;
May love and Bacchus still agree;
And every American warm his soul
With cupid, wine and liberty.
Tis easy enough to be pleasant,
When life rolls by with a song;
But the man worth while is the man
with a smile
When everything goes dead wrong.
« K
Let's be gay while we may
And seize love with laughter.
I'll be true as long as you,
And not a moment after.
It It
Here's to the tears of affection.
May they crystallize as they fall, and
become pearls, in after years in mem-
ory of those whom we have loved.
*• *
"Win her and wear her if you can.
She is the most delightful of God's
creatures, Heaven's best gift, man's
joy and pride in prosperity, man's
support and comfort in affliction."
—Shelley.
Here's to you two and to we two;
If you two love we two,
As we two love you two,
Then here's to we four.
But if you two don't love we two
As we two love you two,
Then here's to we two and no more.
« n
Here's to the girls that will lie for us;
Here's to the girls that will die for us;
Here's to the best of our lives;
Drink, boys, to our wives.
* «8
Here's to the Garden of Eden,
Which Adam was always a weedin',
Till Eve, by mistake,
Got bit by a snake,
Who on the ripe pippins was feedin'.
Then a longing it seemed to possess
her
For clothing sufficient to dress her;
And ever since then it's been up to
us men
To pay for the dresses—God bless
her.
Our Nation, God bless it!
May its honors increase.
In war we found profit
But are happy in peace.
So in peace or in war
Our country's a winner,
So glorious a toast
Suits so noble a dinner.
•8 H
Fill the bumper fair!
Every drop we sprinkle
O'er the brow of care
Smoothes away a wrinkle.
Wit's electric flame
Ne'er so swiftly passes
As when through the frame
It shoots from brimming glasses.
—Thomas Moore.
* n,
Here's to the bride that is to be,
Happy and smiling and fair,
And here's to those who would like
to be,
And are wondering when, and
. where.
-4* ^
Dost thou think because thou art
virtuous there shall be no more cakes
and ale? —Shakespeare.
It «
Here's to all of us,
Going up hill.
May we meet no friends.
« H
To the old, long life and treasure;
To the young, all health and pleasure.
—Ben Jonson.
Here's to the four hinges of friend-
ship,
Swearing, Lying, Stealing and
Drinking.
When you swear, swear by your coun-
try;
When you lie, lie for a pretty
woman;
When you steal, steal away from bad
company;
And when you drink, drink with me.
Seek not for favor of women. So
shall you find it indeed.
Does not the boar break cover just
when you're lighting a weed?
—Kipling.
We are very slightly changed
From the semi-apes who ranged
India's prehistoric clay;
Whoso drew the longest bow,
Ran his brother down, you know,
As we run men down today.
—Kipling.
* ft
Here's a sigh to those who love me,
And a smile to those who hate;
And whatever sky's above me,
Here's a heart for every fate.
Were't the last drop in the well,
As I gasped upon the brink,
Ere my fainting spirit fell,
Tis to thee that I would drink.
—Byron.
TO THE PAST
Here's to the past,
Too happy to last,
And the faults that we used to con-
done.
Ere woman grew fly
And set things awry.
Keeping tab on the telephone.
* *,
Here's to those who'd love us
If we only cared,
Here's to those that we'd love,
If we only dared.
* n
"May misfortune follow you all the
days of your life, and never overtake
you."
Compel me not to toe the mark,
Be always prim and true,
But rather let me do those things
That I ought not to do.
M
Strong ale was ablution,
Small beer persecution,
A drum was memento mori;
But a full-flowing bowl
Was the saving his soul,
And port was celestial glory.
—Burns.
And after summer evermore suc-
ceeds
The barren winter with his nipping
cold. —Shakespeare.
*t «
"Man may be the head of the fam-
ily, but far better than that, woman is
the heart of it." —Punch.
Here's to the halo that crowned her
head,
When at her feet I tarried,
And here's to the hats she wears in-
stead,
Since she and I were married.
I ne'er could any lustre see
In eyes that would not look at me;
I ne'er found nectar on a lip
But where my own did hope to sip.
—Sheridan.
m, *?
Many merry Christmases, many
Happy New Years, unbroken friend-
ships, great accumulation of cheerful
recollections, affection on earth, and
heaven at last for all of us.
—Charles Dickens.
««e
Here's to the ships of our navy and
the ladies of our land.
May the former be well rigged and
the latter well manned.
« It
Fill a glass with golden wine,
And the while your lips are wet,
Set their perfume upon mine and for-
get
Every kiss we take or give
Leaves us less of life to live.
His heart and hand can never fail
Whose drink is only "Adam's Ale."
ft ft
"To the memory of George Wash-
ington—The childless father of sev-
enty millions."
ft ft
May we kiss whom we please and
please whom we kiss.
ft ft
"May our purses always be heavy,
and our hearts always light."
ft ft
She'll learn to smoke a cigarette
And drink a glass of wine;
She'll get a breakfast, lunch, or tea,
An appetite to dine;
She'll flirt in dress decolette,
She'll think a kiss no sin;
And that's the kind of a summer girl—
Alas! that seems to win.
One-half of me is yours—
The other half yours—
And so all yours.
—Shakespeare.
Here's to the maid who is thrifty,
And knows it is folly to yearn,
And picks out a lover of fifty,
Because he has money to burn.
Friend of my soul! this goblet sip—
'Twill chase the pensive tear;
Tis not so sweet as woman's lip,
But, O! 'tis more sincere.
Like her delusive beam,
'Twill steal away the mind,
But unlike affection's dream,
It leaves no sting behind.
n *
While there's life on the lip, while
there's warmth in the wine,
One deep health I'll pledge, and that
health shall be thine.
To the prettiest girl in the room I
would drink;
But who she may be, and just what I
think,
I will keep to myself; yet let no one
blink,
From the fact that a glance is as good
as a wink.
»* n.
Here's health to Columbia, the pride
of the earth,
The stars and the stripes—drink the
land of our birth!
Toast the army and navy who fought
for our cause,
Who conquered and won us our free-
dom and laws.
"Here's to the kinds of people I
meet,"
The Auto-man said,
"Those who stay on and get off the
street,
The quick and the dead."
Cold water is the best of drinks,
And fit for prince or king,
But who am I that I should take
The best of everything.
Let princes revel at the pump,
Kings with the tap make free;
Champagne or gin or even beer
Is good enough for me.
Would eyes of blue to me be true
When stacks of blue take wings?
Since stacks of blue are shy of late
Blue eyes must wait with other
things.
Here's to Ike Walton's famous name,
Here's to all hunters out for game,
Here's to all fish that bite and rise,
Here's to the crops and ripening
skies.
Here's to all cooks whose skill doth
yield
A feast from water, sky and field.
Here's to sweethearts—the morning
glories of life, the first real flowers
that we gather in the garden of exist-
ence. —John Earnest McCann.
Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant!
Let the dead Past bury its dead.
Act,—act in the living present.
—Longfellow.
«* n
We'll drink to-night with hearts as
light,
To loves as gay and fleeting
As bubbles that swim on the beaker's
brim,
And break on the lips while meet-
ing. —Hoffman.
•S »S
Till we are built like angels, with
hammer, and chisel, and pen,
We will work for ourselves and a
woman, forever and ever, Amen!
—Kipling.
The Indian with his pipe of peace
Has slowly passed away;
But the Irishman with his piece of
pipe
Has come prepared to stay.
* n,
RICHARD CARLE'S TOAST
Here's that you may live a hundred
happy years,
And I may live a hundred less one
day,
For I don't care to live any longer,
When you good fellows have all
passed away.
« tl
All care to the wind we merrily fling,
For the damp, cold grave is a dead
sure thing!
It's a dead sure thing we're alive to-
night
And the damp, cold grave is out of
sight.
(Toast of the Vampire Club.)
—Jarold.
A Book of Verses underneath the
Bough,
A Jug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread,—
and thou
Beside me singing in the Wilder-
ness—
Oh! Wilderness were Paradise enow!
—Omar Khayyam.
K «
A FALL FROM THE WAGON
Nothing in Nature's sober found,
But an eternal "health" goes round.
Fill up the bowl then, fill it high—
Fill all the glasses there; for why
Should every creature drink but I;
Why, man of mortals, tell me why?
Then a smile, and a glass, and a toast,
and a cheer
For all the good wine, and we've
some of it here!
In cellar, in pantry, in attic, in hall,
Long live the gay servant that laughs
for us all! —Holmes.
><\#
We may live without books,—
What is knowledge but grieving.
We may live withput hope,—what is
hope but deceiving.
We may live without love,—what is
passion but pining;
But where is the man who can live
without dining?
—Meredith.
"In the parlor there were three;
Girl, the parlor lamp, and he,
Two is company; no doubt—
That is why the lamp went out.
I have never studied the art of pay-
ing compliments to women, but I
must say that if all that has been said
by orators and poets since the crea-
tion of the world, in praise of women
were applied to the women of Amer-
ica, it would not do them justice.
God bless the women of America.
—Abraham Lincoln.
"Here's to the Lucky Rich who eat
what they like!
Here's to the Lucky Poor who like
what they eat!
Here's to our Luckier Selves who
both eat what we like and like
what we eat!"
Shmile, und the vorld shmiles mit
you;
Laugh, und the vorld vill roar;
Howl, und the vorld vill leaf you
Undt nefer come back any more.
For all of us couldn't peen handsome,
Nor all of us vear goot clothes;
But a shmile vas not exbensive,
Undt covers a vorld of woes.
I drink as the Fates ordain it.
Come, fill it, and have done with
rhymes;
Fill up the lonely glass and drain it
In memory of dear old times.
—Thackeray.
c;^
Never a lip is curved in pain
That cannot be kissed into smiles
again. —Bret Harte.
ft ft
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they
seem— —Longfellow.
ft ft
Drink, my jolly lads, drink with dis-
cerning,
Wedlock's a lane where there is no
turning;
Never was owl more blind than lover;
Drink and be merry, lads; half seas
over. —Mulock.
ft ft
Too much work and no vacation
Justifies a slight libation;
Here's a toast, boys, raise your
glasses
Work is the curse of the drinking
classes,
RED, WHITE AND BLUE
Here's to the girl with the red hair,
white skin and blue eyes.
May her colors never fade.
«S IS
Here's a health to the Future,
A sigh for the Past.
We can love and remember
And hope to the last.
And for all the base lies
That the almanacs hold,
While there's love in the heart
We can never grow old.
IS IS
Gather ye rose-buds while ye may,
Old Time is still a flying;
And the same flower that blooms
today,
Tomorrow may be dying.
—Herrick.
IS IS
Our country, our whole country and
nothing but our country.
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 to-
gether. —O'Keefe.
A little health, a little wealth,
A little house and freedom,
With some few friends
For certain ends,
But little cause to need 'em.
A TOAST TO BEER
Let's drink the liquid of amber so
bright;
Let's drink the liquid with foam snowy
white;
Let's drink the liquid that brings all
good cheer;
Oh, where is the drink like old-fash-
ioned beer?
The queen of all islands is Erin, the
blest. —Moore.
Here's to you and yours
From us and ours.
If we and ours
Could do for you and yours
What you and yours
Have done for us and ours,
It would be happy hours
For us and ours.
UK
Here's to the girl who fishes, and
fishes and fishes;
And here's to the girl who wishes, and
wishes and wishes.
May she who angles catch her fish
And she who desires get her wish.
And may that fish,
Nay more, that wish-
Be I.
« It
(Toast drunk by an Irishman during
the cholera epidemic in India):
Stand to your glasses steady
And drink to your comrades' eyes;
Here's a cup to the dead, already,
And hurrah for the next that oies.
AMERICA
My native land! I turn to you,
With blessing and with prayer;
Where man is brave and woman true,
And free as mountain air.
Long may our flag in triumph wave
Against the world combined,
And friends a welcome—foes a grave,
Within our borders find.
—Morris.
•t H
The Frenchman loves his native wine;
The German loves his beer;
The Englishman his 'alf and 'alf,
Because it brings good cheer.
The Irishman loves his "whisky
straight,"
Because it gives him dizziness.
The American has no choice at all,
So he drinks the whole ------ busi-
ness.
"Fairest of creatures, last and best."
—French.
TO JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY
"It kan't be long, Jim Riley,
'Fore ye've got to leave the toil
Of this short life to mingle
With the elements of soil.
But ye'll make the old earth richer
Than she ever was before,
By the songs ye sung her children
In the happy days o' yore.
And she'll sing your old-time ditties,
With gladness full and free,
Of the olden, golden glory
Of the days 'at ust to be."
—Fowler.
"There is a vast difference between
wishing and winning. Many a good
man has failed because he had his
wishbone where his backbone ought
to have been."
Men have died from time to time,
and worms have eaten them,—but not
for love. —Shakespeare.
DO IT NOW
Here's a model for us all,
"Do it now."
Should the work be great or small,
"Do it now."
So to banish all your sorrow,
Don't put off until tomorrow,
From the wine such joy to borrow,
"Do it now."
»? n,
And nature swears, the lovely dears
Her noblest work she classes, O;
Her 'prentice hand she tried on man,
And then she made the lasses, O.
—Burns.
»? H
A pipe, a book, a fire, a friend,
A stein that's always full;
Here's to the joys of a bachelor's life,
A life that is never dull.
Our Native Land—May it ever con-
tinue the abode of freedom and the
birthplace of heroes.
O! might I kiss those eyes of fire,
A million scarce would quench desire:
Still would I steep my lips in bliss,
And dwell an age on every kiss:
Nor then my soul should sated be;
Still would I kiss and cling to thee:
Naught should my kiss from thine
dissever:
E'en though the numbers did exceed
The yellow harvest's countless seed,
To part would be a vain endeavor;
Could I desist?—ah! never—never!
—Byron.
There once was a brawny Scotch
laddie
Who said as he put on his pladdie,
"I've had a braw dish
Of unco' guid fish."
What had he had? Had he had
haddie?
—B. C. D., Boston, Mass.
Here's to the land we love, and the
love we land.
TO THE TOPER
A fig then for Burgundy, claret or
Mountain,
A few scanty glasses must limit
your wish;
But he's the true toper that goes to
the fountain,
The drinker that verily "drinks like
a fish." —Thomas Hood.
•s«
He said when first he saw me
Life seemed at once divine;
Each night he dreamed of angels,
And every face was mine;
Sometimes a voice in sleeping
Would all his hopes forbid,
And then he'd waken weeping—
Do you really think he did?
—Charles Swain.
« n
"They are fools who kiss and tell,"
Wisely has the poet sung.
Man may hold all sorts of posts
If he'll only hold his tongue.
—Kipling.
TO MAN'S FRIEND, THE HORSE
Here's to that bundle of sentient
nerves, with the heart of a woman,
the eye of a gazelle, the courage of a
gladiator, the docility of a slave, the
proud carriage of a king, and the blind
obedience of a soldier; the companion
of the desert plain, that turns the
moist furrows in the spring in order
that all the world may have abundant
harvest, that furnishes the sport of
kings, that, with blazing eye and dis-
tended nostril, fearlessly leads our
greatest generals through carnage and
renown, whose blood forms one of the
ingredients that go to make the ink
in which all history is written, and
who finally in black trappings pulls
the humblest of us to the newly sod-
ded threshold of eternity.
—Rider and Driver.
i
Here's to those who love us,
And here's to those who don't,
A smile for those who are willing to,
And a tear for those who won't.
Let me play the fool;
With mirth and laughter let old wrin-
kles come;
And let my liver rather heat with wine,
Than my heart cool with mortifying
groans. —Shakespeare.
n *
To America's daughters—let all fill
their glasses—
Whose beauty and virtue the whole
world surpasses;
May blessings attend them, go wher-
ever they will,
And foul fall the man who offers
them ill.
« *5
When your heels hit hard and your
head feels queer,
And your thoughts rise up like the
foam on beer,
And your knees get weak and your
voice gets strong,
And you laugh all night at some darn
fool song,
Then you're drunk, by gosh! you're
drunk.
THE WIMMIN!
So let us all; yes, by the love which
all our lives rejoices,
By those dear eyes that speak to us
with love's seraphim voices,
By those dear arms that will infold us
when we sleep forever,
By those dear lips that kiss the lips
that may give answer never,
By memories lurkin' in our hearts an'
all our eyes be-dimmin',
We'll drink a health to those we love
an' who love us—the wimmin!
—Eugene Field.
Here's to the friends we class as old,
And here's to those we class as new;
May the new grow to us old,
And the old ne'er grow to us new.
« n
To all my friends I leave kind
thoughts.
From the Will of John Brougham,
Comedian.
A KISS WITHIN THE CUP.
There is no gladness in the glass
Unless thou pour for me;
But taste it first before it pass,
And I will drink with thee;
For if those lovely lips of thine
Have breathed upon the brim,
I swear that I will drain the wine,
Although it reach the rim.
Oh, who could bear to say thee nay,
When thou hast kissed the cup?
Or who would turn the other way,
When thou hast filled it up?
For oh, the cup has kept the kiss
And carries me a share,
To show me all the wasted bliss
Thy lips have lavished there!
—Translated by Jane M. Sedgwick.
« «
In an honest tavern let me die,
Before my lips a brimmer lie,
And angel choirs come down and cry,
"Peace to thy soul, my jolly boy."
Here's to the charmer whose dimples
we prize;
Now to the maid who has none, sir;
Here's to the girl with a pair of blue
eyes,
And here's to the nymph with but
one, sir.
Here's to the maid with a bosom of
snow;
Now to her that's as brown as a
berry;
Here's to the wife with a face full of
woe,
And now to the damsel that's merry.
For let 'em be clumsy, or let em be
slim,
Young or ancient, I care not a
feather;
So fill a pint bumper quite up to the
brim,
So fill up your glasses, nay, fill to the
brim,
And let us e'en toast them together.
—Richard Brinsley Sheridan.
A RECIPE.
Take a pair of sparkling eyes,
Hidden, ever and anon,
In a merciful eclipse—
Do not heed their mild surprise—
Having passed the Rubicon.
Take a pair of ruby lips;
Take a figure trimly planned—
Such as admiration whets.
(Be particular in this);
Take a tender little hand,
Fringed with dainty fingerettes,
Press it—in parenthesis;—
Take all these, you lucky man—
Take and keep them, if you can.
—W. S. Gilbert.
It*
We'll drink tonight with hearts as
light
To loves as gay and fleeting
As bubbles that swim on the breaker's
brim,
And break on the lips while meet-
ing.
S£*T^
Here's to our sweethearts and wives,
God bless 'em;
May our sweethearts soon be our
wives, and our wives ever our
sweethearts. —A Navy Toast.
* n
Here's a sigh to those who love me,
And a smile to those who hate,
And whatever sky's above me,
Here's a heart for any fate.
—Lord Byron.
A real friend is one who will tell
you of your faults and follies in pros-
perity, and assist you with his hand
and heart in adversity.
* H
To make the coming hour o'erflow
with joy,
And pleasure drown the brim.
—Shakespeare.
This is the best day the world has
ever seen. Tomorrow will be better.
—R. A. Campbell.
The only way to have a friend is to
be one. —Emerson.
K »
Give strong drink unto him that is
ready to perish, and wine unto those
that be of heavy hearts. Let him
drink and forget his poverty and re-
member his misery no more. —Bible
n n
Of drinking wine, Johnson said:
"Wine gives great pleasure; and every
pleasure is of itself good. It is good
unless counterbalanced by evil. A
man may have strong reasons not to
drink wine; and that may be stronger
than pleasure. Wine makes a man
better pleased with himself; I do not
say it makes him more pleasing to
others. Sometimes it does. But the
danger is, that while a man is grow-
'/, ing more pleased with himself, he may
be growing less pleasing to others.
—Boswell's Life of Johnson.
The best of happiness, honour and
fortunes keep with you.
—"Timon of Athens."
i| «?
Bitter indeed must be the cup that
a smile will not sweeten.
n «
Friendship, peculiar boon of heaven,
The noble mind's delight and pride,
To men and angels only given,
To all the lower world denied.
—Samuel Johnson.
»? *6
Then fill a fair and honest cup, and
And bear it straight to me;
The goblet hallows all it holds,
What e'er the liquid be, -
And may the cherubs on its face,
Protect me from the sin
That dooms me to those dreadful
words,
"My dear, where have you been?"
—Oliver Wendell Holmes.
Here's to champagne, the drink divine,
That makes us forget our troubles;
It's made of a dollar's worth of wine
And three dollars' w ot bubbles.
«S K
If on my theme I rightly think,
There are five reasons why I drink,—
Good wine, a friend, because I'm dry,
Or lest I should be by and by,
Or any other reason why.
This world that we're a livin' in
Is mighty hard to beat;
You get a thorn with ev'ry rose,
But ain't the roses sweet!
—Frank Stanton.
* «
O, guid ale comes, and guid ale goes,
Guid ale gars me sell my hose,
Sell my hose and pawn my shoon—
Good ale keeps my heart aboon!
—Burns.
Where we love is home,
Home that our feet may leave, but
not our hearts,
Though o'er us shines the jasper-
lighted dome:—
The chain may lengthen but it never
parts!—Oliver Wendell Holmes.
Make one person happy each day
and in forty years you have made 14,-
600 human beings happy for a little
time at least.
To believe in men is the first step <$,
toward helping them.
Love is the only good in the world.
Henceforth be loved as heart can love,
or brain devise, or hand approve.
—Browning.
»? *
Come, gentlemen, I hope we shall
drink down all unkindness.
—Shakespeare.
I am thinking of you today because
it is Christmas and I wish you happi-
ness, and tomorrow because it will be
the day after Christmas, I shall still
wish you happiness and so on through
the year. I may not be able to tell
you about it every day, because I may
be far away; or because both of us
may be very busy; or perhaps because
I cannot even afford to pay the pos-
tage on so many letters, or find the
time to write them, but that makes no
difference, the thought and the wish
will be here just the same. Whatever
joy or success comes to you will make
me glad without pretense, and in plain
words, good-will to you is what I
mean, in the spirit of Christmas.
—Henry van Dyke.
n »?
May you live all the days of your
life. —Swift.
Fill the cup and let it come,
I'll pledge you a mile to the bottom.
—Shakespeare.
ACROSTIC
To them ,blest weed, whose sover-
eign wiles
O'er cankered care bring radiant
smiles,
Best gift of Love to mortals given!
At once the bud and bliss of Heaven!
Crownless are kings uncrowned by
thee;
Content the serf in they sweet
liberty,
O charm of life! O foe to misery!
n n
O lady there may be many things
That seem right fair, below, above;
But sure not one among them all
Is half so sweet as love.
—Oliver Wendell Holmes.
With malice toward none, with
charity for all, with firmness in the
right as God gives us to see the
right, let us strive on.
—Abraham Lincoln.
John Barleycorn was a hero bold,
Of noble enterprise;
For if you do but taste his blood,
'T will make your courage rise.
'T will make a man forget his woe;
'T will heighten all his joy;
'T will make the widow's heart to
sing,
Tho' the tear were in her eye.
Then let us toast John Barleycorn,
Each man a glass in hand;
And may his great posterity
Ne'er fail in old Scotland!
—Robert Burns.
I simply say that she is good,
And loves me with pure womanhood.
When that is said, why, what remains?
—Joaquin Miller.
A woman who has made fun of her
husband can love him no more.
—Balzac.
Here's to a temperance supper,
With water in glasses tall,
And coffee and tea to end with—
And me not there at all.
*, n
Here's to the girl who's bound to win
Her share at least of blisses,
Who knows enough not to go in
When it is raining kisses.
n n
Here's to the girl I love the best,
It ought not to be hard to guess it;
For I raise my glass and gaze at one
Who loves me but won't confess it.
Take away thy rosy lips
Rich with balmy treasure!
Turn away thine eyes of love,
Lest I die with pleasure!
What is life when wanting love?
Night without a morning!
Love the cloudless summer's sun,
Nature gay adorning.
Before we can bring happiness to
ethers, we must first be happy our-
selves; nor will happiness abide with-
in us unless we confer it on others.
—Maurice Maeterlinck.
This bottle's the sun of our table.
His beams are rosy wine:
We, planets, that are not able
Without his help to shine.
Let mirth and glee abound!
You'll soon grow bright
With borrowed light,
And shine as he goes round.
—Richard Brinsley Sheridan.
* n
The man who hails you Tom or Jack,
And proves by thumping on your
back
His sense of your great merit,
Is such a friend that one has need
Be very much his friend indeed
To pardon or to bear it.
—William Cowper.
Here's to Fraternity! With all the
word conveys of want relieved,
Of friendship, help and sympathy,
both given and received.
Comrades of all the world, we stand,
as men full oft have stood,
But pledge, instead of King or State,
the Bond of Brotherhood.
* K
If the world is going wrong,
Forget it!
Sorrow never lingers long—
Forget it!
If your neighbor bears ill-will,
If your conscience won't be still,
If you owe an ancient bill,
Forget it!
« K
Here's to the maiden of bashful fif-
teen;
Here's to the widow of fifty;
Here's to the flaunting extravagant
quean,
And here's to the housewife that's
thrifty.
Wine is as good as life to a man, if
it be drunk moderately: what is life
then to a man that is without wine?
for it was made to make men glad.
—Bible.
Joy, gentle friends, joy! and fresh
days of love accompany your hearts.
—Shakespeare.
n. n.
Here's to the smoke that curls in the
air,
Here's to the dog at my feet;
Here's to the girls that have gone be-
fore,—
Gad! but their kisses were sweet!
•S «
There are snow peaks in your heart,
And the grayness that is cold.
But wisdom comes with loving,
sweet,
And all your moods my love can
meet—
Because my love is bold.
—Lucine Finch; "Two in Arcadia."
God's benison go with you; and with
those
That would make good of bad, and
friends of foes.
—Macbeth.
Happiness is the only good. The
place to be happy is here. The time
to be happy is now. The way to be
happy is to help make others so.
—Robert G. Ingersoll.
Give me a rouse, then, in the May-
time,
For a life that knows no fear!
Turn night-time into day-time,
With the sun-light of good cheer!
For it's always fair weather
When good fellows get together,
With a stein on the table and a good
song ringing clear;
For it's always fair weather
When good fellows get together,
With a stein on the table and a good
song ringing clear.
—Richard Hovey.
Fair be thy hopes,
And prosperous be thy life, in peace
and war. —"Henry VI., Part I."
« *
Should auld acquaintence be forgot,
And never brought to min',
Should auld acquaintence be forgot
And auld lang syne.
For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne,
We'll take a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.
And here's a hand, my trusty fier,
And gie's a hand o' thine,
And we'll tak' a right guid willie-
waught,
For auld lang syne.—Robert Burns.
« «
Sweethearts and wives—may they
never meet.
A Navy Toast.
There's Death in the cup, so beware!
Nay, more—there is danger in touch-
ing!
But who can avoid the fell snare?
The man and his wine 's so bewitch-
ing!
Then fill up a bumper and make it
o'er flow,
And honours Masonic prepare for to
throw:
May ev'ry true Brother of the Com-
pass and Square
Have a big-belly'd bottle, when har-
ass'd with care! —Robert Burns.
Three B's there be, three busy B's,
Together go always:
Two of them cater to my ease,
The third curtails my days.
The twain are comrades staunch and
true
The other makes me ill:
The Bottle and the Bird are two,
■The third B is the Bill.
TOBACCO.
Blessings on old Raleigh's head—
Though upon the block it fell—
For the knowledge he first spread
Of the herb I love so well!
* iS
Perhaps it will all come right at last:
It may be when all is done,
We shall be together in some good
world,
Where to wish and to have are one.
—Richard Henry Stoddard.
m, *
What though on hamely fare we dine,
Wear hodden grey, an' a' that?
Gie fools their silks, and knaves their
wine—
A man's a man for a' that.
For a' that, an' a' that,
Their tinsels show, an' a' that,
The honest man, tho' e'er sae poor,
Is king o' men for a' that.
—Burns.
Say, why did Time
His glass sublime
Fill up with sands unsightly,
When wine he knew,
Runs brisker through,
And sparkles far more brightly?
Oh, lend it us,
And, smiling thus,
The glass in two we'll sever,
Make pleasure glide
In double tide,
And fill both ends for ever!
Then wreath the bowl
With flowers of soul
The brightest wit can find us;
We'll take a flight
Towards heaven to-night,
And leave dull earth behind us.
—Moore.
Here's to the woman who has a
smile for every joy, a tear for every
sorrow, a consolation for every grief,
an excuse for every fault, a prayer
for every misfortune, an encourage-
ment for every hope.
—Sainte Foix.
Every man should keep a fair-sized
cemetery in which to bury the faults
of his friends. —Henry Ward Beecher.
At all your feasts, remember too,
When cups are sparkling to the brim
That there is one who drinks to you,
And oh! as warmly drink to him.
Some take their gold in minted mould,
And some in harps hereafter,
But give me mine in tresses fine,
And keep the change—in laughter.
•t *
Though confidence is very fine,
And make the future sunny;
I want no confidence in mine,
I'd rather have the money.
H *
Hand Sorrow! Care will kill a cat
—therefore let's be merry.
'>*\J""
MY PIPE.
When love grows cold, thy fire still
warms me;
When friends are fled, thy presence
charms me.
If thou art full, though purse be bare,
I smoke, and cast away all care!
—German Smoking Song.
«? n,
Friendship is a word, the very sight
of which in print makes the heart
warm. —Augustine Birrell.
MY CIGARETTE.
Little tube of mighty power,
Charmer of an idle hour,
Object of my warm desire,
Lip of wax and eye of fire:
And thy snowy taper waist,
With my finger gently braced;
And thy pretty swelling crest,
With my little stopper press'd,
And the sweetest bliss of blisses
Breathing from thy balmy kisses.
—Isaac Hawkins Browne.
5£x4T
A little work, a little play
To keep us going—and so, good day!
A little warmth, a little light
Of love's bestowing—and so, good
night!
A little fun to match the sorrow
Of each day's growing, and so—good
morrow.
A little trust that when we die
We reap our sowing! And so—good-
bye!
* »!
Here's to the girl with the beaming
eyes,
Whose heart is fond and free,
Who draws from other men deep
sighs,
But never one from me.
And here's to the girl who is not
free,
Whose beams are wholly mine,
Although she draws a sigh from me,
I'll toast her in this wine.
—Jack Horntip Delaney.
The peer I don't envy, I give him his
bow;
I scorn not the peasant, tho' ever so
low;
But a club of good fellows, like those
that are here,
And a bottle like this, are my glory
and care. —Robert Burns.
Yesterday 's yesterday while today 's
here,
Today is today till tomorrow appear,
Tomorrow 's tomorrow until today 's
past,
And kisses are kisses as long as they
last.
« ««
The cares of the day, old moralists
say,
Are quite enough to perplex one;
Then drive today's sorrow away till
tomorrow,
And then put it off till the next one.
—Charles Dickens.
PROPOSAL.
The violet loves a sunny bank,
The cowslip loves the lea,
The scarlet creeper loves the elm;
But I love—thee.
The sunshine kisses mount and vale,
The stars, they kiss the sea,
The west winds kiss the clover bloom,
But I kiss—thee.
The oriole weds his mottled mate,
The lily's bride o' the bee;
Heaven's marriage ring is round the
earth—
Shall I wed thee?
—Bayard Taylor.
*? n
If somebody loves you,
You cannot be sad;
You've cause for rejoicing,
You've cause to be glad.
You've a subject for song,
As you journey your way;
If somebody loves you
You ought to be gay.
—Edward A. Guest.
Come! fill a fresh bumper,
For why should we go
While the nectar still reddens
Our cups as they flow.
Pour out the rich juices
Still bright with the sun,
Till o'er the brimmed crystal
The rubies shall run.
—Oliver Wendell Holmes.
m, *.
Notably fond of music,
I dote on a sweeter tone
Than ever the harp has uttered or
ever the lute has known.
When I wake at five in the morning.
with a feeling in my head
Suggestive of mild excesses before
I retired to bed;
And a small but fierce volcano vexes
me sore inside,
And my throat and mouth are furred
with a fur that seemeth a buffalo
hide—
How gracious those dews of solace
that over my senses fall
At the clink of the ice in the pitcher
the boy brings up the hall!
—Eugene Field.
We just shake hands at meeting
With many that come nigh;
We nod the head in greeting
To many that go by,—
But welcome through the gateway
Our few old friends and true;
Then hearts leap up, and straightway
There's open house for you,
Old Friends,
There's open house for you!
Here's to mine and here's to thine!
Now's the time to clink it!
Here's a flagon of old wine,
And here we are to drink it.
—Richard Hovey.
*? »e
I do not care so much where, as
with whom, I live. If the right folks
are with me I can manage to get a
good deal of happiness in the city or
in the country. After all, a palace
without affection is a poor hovel, and
the meanest hut with love in it is a
palace for the soul.
—Robert G. Ingersoll.
Here's health to you and wealth to
you,
Honors and gifts a thousand strong;
Here's name to you and fame to you,
Blessings and joy a whole life long!
But, lest bright Fortune's star grow
dim,
And sometimes cease to move to
you,
I fill my bumper to the brim,
And pledge a lot of love to you!
—Turner.
* K
Come, old fellow, drink down to your
peg,
But do not drink any further, I beg!
—Longfellow.
n «
R-e-m-o-r-s-e
Those dry martinis were too much
for me.
Last night at twelve I felt immense;
To-day I feel like thirty cents.
At four I sought my whirling bed,
At eight I woke with such a head.
It is no time for mirth or laughter—
The cold grey dawn of the morning
after. —George Ade.
/
LIFE'S MIRROR.
There are loyal hearts, there are
spirits brave,
There are souls that are pure and
true;
Then give to the world the best you
have,
And the best shall come back to you.
Give love, and love to your heart will
flow,
A strength in your utmost need;
Have faith, and a score of hearts will
show
Their faith in your word and deed.
For life is the mirror of king and
slave,
'Tis just what you are and do;
Then give to the world the best you
have,
And the best will come back to you.
—Madeline S. Bridges.
*. n.
Then fill the cup, fill high! fill high!
Let joy our goblets crown;
We'll bung Misfortune's scowling eye,
And knock Foreboding down.
—James Russell Lowell.
Here's rest for the weary.—
In peace rest his soul;
Good luck to the wanderer
Who's lost the keyhole!
n h
May our friends be in our hearts,
whether they be remembered in wine
or water.
*? »?
Here's to the Bachelor, so lonely and
gay;
For it's not his fault, he was born that
way.
And here's to the Spinster, so lonely
and good;
For it's not her fault, she hath done
what she could.
To live in hearts we leave behind, is
not to die.
—Campbell.
I thank you for your welcome which
was cordial,
And your cordial, which was welcome.
One bumper at parting! Though
many
Have circled the board since we met,
The fullest, the saddest of any
Remains to be crowned by us yet.
The sweetness that pleasure has in it
Is always so slow to come forth
That seldom, alas! till the minute
It dies, do we know half its worth!
But oh, may our life's happy measure
Be all of such moments made up;
They're born on the bosom of pleasure,
They die in the tears of the cup!
Now, boys, just a moment! You've
all had your say,
While enjoying yourselves in so pleas-
ant a way.
We've toasted our sweethearts, our
friends and our wives,
We've toasted each other, wishing
all merry lives;
'Tis one in a million, and outshines the
rest;—
Yea of all of the toasts I deem it the
best,
Don't frown when I tell you this toast
beats all others,—
But drink one more toast, boys, a
toast to "Our Mothers!"
Come fill me a bumper, my jolly brave
boys,
Let's have no more female impert'-
nence and noise;
I've tried the endearments and witch-
craft of love,
And found them but nonsense and
whimsies, by Jove.
Truce with your love! no more of your
love;
The bottle henceforth is my mistress,
by Jove. —Robert Burns.
«*
By every hill whose stately pines
Wave their dark arms above
The home where some fair being
shines,
To warm the wilds with love,
From barest rock to bleakest shore
Where farthest sail unfurls,
That stars and stripes are streaming
o'er—
God bless our Yankee girls!
—Oliver Wendell Holmes.
If you'd dip in such joys, come,—the
better the quicker,
But remember the fee—for it suits
not my ends
To let you make havoc, scot free, with
my liquor,
As though I were one of your heavy-
pursed friends.
—Horace.
Snatch gaily the joys which the mo-
ment shall bring,
And away every care and perplexity
fling.
*l *?
He who loves not his country can
love nothing.
—Byron.
; rViv"
May the bloom of the face never ex-
tend to the nose.
n, «
Our absent friends! Although out
of sight, we recognize them with our
glasses.
Come, messmates, fill the cheerful
bowl!
To-night let no one fail,
No matter how the billows roll,
Or roars the ocean gale.
There's toil and danger in our lives,
But let us jovial be,
And drink to sweethearts and to wives
On Saturday night at sea!
—Taylor.
IS IS
Love thee?—so well, so tenderly
Thou'rt loved, adored by me,
Fame, fortune, wealth, and liberty,
Were worthless without thee.
Though brimm'd with blessings, pure
and rare.
Life's cup before me lay,
Unless thy love were mingled there,
I'd spurn the draught away.
—Moore.
IS IS
I takes my pipe, I takes my pot;
And drunk I am never seen to be;
I'm no teetotaler, or sot,
And as I am I mean to be.
—Gilbert.
Eat, drink, be merry; seize the present
hour;
Deem not the future, holds a fairer
flower.
*t »?
And if the wine you drink, the lips you
press,
Ends in what all begins and ends in—
yes,
Think then you are to-day, what
yesterday
You were, to-morrow you shall not be
less.
—Omar Khayyam.
*, n
Pass me the wine. To those that keep
The bachelor's secluded sleep
Peaceful, inviolate and deep,
I pour libation.
—Dobson.
I wish thee health,
I wish thee wealth,
I wish thee gold in store,
I wish thee heaven upon earth—
What could I wish thee more?
Here's to the Chaperone,
May she learn from Cupid
Just enough blindness
To be sweetly stupid.
May the Spring-time of life never be
visited by the Winter of despair.
If, K
If ever I marry a wife,
I'll marry a landlord's daughter,
And sit in the bar all day,
And drink cold brandy and water.
—Charles Lamb.
*S »?
A health to our future—a sigh for our
past,
We love, we remember, we hope to the
last;
And for all the base lies that the al-
manacs hold,
While we've youth in our hearts, we
can never grow old!
—Holmes.
Here's to the man who drinks when
he's dry,
And drinks till his humor is mellow;
And here's to the man who, perhaps
isn't dry,
But drinks just to be a good fellow.
*e n
Here's to the man without a shirt to
his back,
May he deck himself out with a
dickey;
And here's to the man, who of rums
finds a lack,
May he fill himself up with gin
rickey.
n«?
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.
—Edward C. Pinckney.
Here's a turkey when you are hungry,
Champagne when you are dry,
A pretty girl when you are lonely,
And heaven when you die!
Come bring with a noise,
My merry, merry boys,
The Christmas log to the firing,
While my good dame, she
Bids ye all to be free,
And drink to your heart's desiring .
—Herrick.
»• K
God made man frail as a bubble;
God made Love, Love made Trouble.
God made the Vine; was it a sin
That Man made Wine to drown
Trouble in?
« K
Here's to Old Adam's crystal ale,
Clear, sparkling and divine,
Fair H2O,
Long may you flow!
We drink your health (in wine).
'XS.&
God made the world—and rested,
God made man—and rested,
Then God made woman;
Since then neither God nor man has
rested.
Nor shall our cups make any guilty
men;
But at our parting, we will be as when
We innocently met. No simple word
That shall be uttered at our mirthful
board
Shall make us sad next morning: or
affright
The liberty that we'll enjoy to-night.
—Ben Johnson.
* tt
One drink is plenty;
Two drinks too many,
And three not half enough.
A day for toil, an hour for sport,
But for a friend is life too short.
—Emerson.
To Ladies' eyes around, boy,
We can't refuse, we can't refuse,
Tho' bright eyes so abound, boy,
'T is hard to choose, 't is hard to
choose.
For thick as stars that lighten
Yon airy bowers, yon airy bowers,
The countless eyes that brighten
This earth of ours, this earth of ours.
But fill the cup—where'er, boy.
Our choice may fall, our choice may
fall,
We're sure to find Love there, boy,
So drink them all! So drink them all!
—Thomas Moore.
Virtue,—the guide that men and na-
tions own;
And Law,—the bulwark that protects
her throne;
And Health,—to all its happiest charm
that lends;
These and their servants, man's untir-
ing friends;
Pour the bright lymph that Heaven
itself lets fall,—
In one fair bumper let us toast them
all.
If your plans go wrong,
As they sometimes will,
And the hours seem long
As you climb the hill;
Remember, my friend,
"Tis a part you play.
You'll find in the end
A brighter day.
It's life.
—Edgar A. Guest.
* «t
And let the Loving-Cup go 'round,
The cup with blessed memories
crowned,
That flows whene'er we meet—my
boys.
No draught will hold a drop of sin,
If love is only well stirred in
To keep it sound and sweet—my
boys,
To keep it sound and sweet.
—Oliver Wendell Holmes.
Drink to-day, and drown all sorrow;
You shall perhaps not do't to-morrow.
—Fletcher.
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