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48
In
banquet-hall
'tis
meetest
To
raise
the
echoing
laugh
:
In
jocund
hour
'tis
sweetest
The
bowl's
deep
flood
to
quaff.
Aye
!
let
your
mirth
be
loud
and
long
!
Let
voice
and
heart
be
free
!
And
'midst
the
din
of
shout
and
song
Let
all
feast
merrily
!
Go
forth,
my
sons,
to
glory
!
Gro
climb
the
steeps
of
fame
!
Go
!
and
in
future
story
Enrol
your
shining
name
!
May
no dark
cloud
obscure
your
sky
;
No
fear
your
soul
dismay
:
Nor
keener
sorrow
dim
your
eye
Than
claims
the
tear
to-day
!
Recipe.
Three
quarts of
ale,
sweetened
with
refined
sugar
finely
pulverized,
and
served
up
in
a
bowl
with
six
roasted
apples
floating
in
it.