98 / 106
Bar-keeper's Toast.
Tru st bust.
Toast to Publishers.
H ere 's to the ma n who dissemin ates bra ins ;
When the qua li ty 's bad it's t he de,· il who gains.
Toast to the Prohibitionist.
H ere 's to our countryman,
Exceedingly pious ;
H e can't swa llow stra ight goods ;
His mouth's cut on the bias.
Drink to a fa ir woman who I think is mos t
entitled to it, for if an ything ever can dri ve me to
drink, she certainl y can do it.
H ere's t o a lon g life, and may you li ve a
thousa nd years and I a thousan d years less one
d ay, for I would no t care to li ve a fter yo u had
p assed away.
Frien d of m y soul , this goblet sip,
'Twill chase the pensive tear.
'Tis not so sweet as woman 's lip,
B ut oh, 'Tis more sincere .
Drink, for yon know not when ce you came nor
why . Drink, for yo u know no t wh y you go nor
when ce .
Fill the bumper fair,
E very drop we sprinkle
O!er
the brow of care
Smoo ths away a wrinkle .
98