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"Touch brim! touch foot! the wine is red.
And leaps to the lips ofthe free;
Our wassail true is quickly said—
Comrade! I drink to thee 1
"Touch foot! touch brim! who cares? who cares?
Brothers in sorrow or glee;
Glory or danger each gallantly shares-
Comrade! I drink to thee!
"Touch brim! touch foot! once again, old friend,
Though the present our last draught be;
We were boys—we are men—we'll be true to the
Brother! I drink to thee 1" [end—
\A ft'J A
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