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Come fill rounUf a bumper, fill up to tf>e brim, ^e to&o s&rinia from a
bumper % please not to \'m. (ftom jfl&oote.

Brostt A BOOK OF TOASTS COMPILED BY CLOTHO In ev'ry sorrowing soul I four* d delight, And poverty stood smiling in my
sight. — Pope. PAUL ELDER AND COMPANY SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA
, Copyright, 1904 by Paul Elder and Company San Francisco Entered at Stationers' Hall London The Tomoye Press San Francisco
To THE LOVING-CUP. Then Jill the cup, Jill high! Jill high! Let "Joy our goblets crown; We'll bung Misfortune*s scowling eye, And knock Foreboding down. — James Russell Lowell. m
' » \
Contents Invocation.......vu « Observe when Mother Earth is dry " - - I Toasts to Wine...... 2 The Woman That's Good - - - - 19 Toasts to Woman.....21 "Friendship .------45 Toasts to Man......46 ««I fill my bumper to the brim" - - 57 Toasts of Sentiment - - - - - 58 Bohemian Days - - - - - -65 Good-fellowship ------ 66 California - - - - - - - 75 Toasts to States - - - - - - 76 Toasts to Rulers - - - - - -80 Toasts to Nations - - - - - 81 Toasts to Our Flag.....86 Toasts to the Army and Navy - - - 88 Toasts to the Arts - - - - - -92 "Drink, Time, thou good old man !" - - 95 Anniversaries ------- 96 " For how can we part when we love one another !" 103 Miscellanea - -
- - - - -104 Toasts in Foreign Tongues - - - - 126 L'Envoi - - - - - - _I33
e m
3fntoocatt For the soul that loves the music Of the glasses when they clink — (Glasses clink/) For the heart that beats its highest When the feasters fill
and drink — ( Fill and drink ! ) Here be toasts, or wise or witty, Gay and brave ones,
grave and pretty; Many an old one, many a new one; Prim or naughty, none's a
blue one. To the eyes that glow and brighten As they watch the bubbles swim; To the
lips that curl for laughing As they kiss the goblet's rim; To the fay that's in
the wine-cup And the magic of her spell; To our banished cares and sorrows — Get
ye gone and fare ye well. Pledges here for two or twenty; Faith they speak, and love a-plenty, Hearts
afire and pulses singing, Hope's high tide and joy bells ringing. Hands around, then, all together— Glass to glass and let them clink. ( Glasses clink ! ) Care is dead and folly reigneth; Fill again and blithely
drink. ( Fill and drink ! ) — Ernest Sylvester Simpson.
■ *!
Coasts to Wint ^ Observe when Mother Earth is dry She drinks the drippings of the sky; And
then the dewly cordial gives To every thirsty plant that lives. The vapors which
at Evening weepy Are beverage to the swelling deepy And when the rosy sun
appears. He drinks the ocean s misty tears. The moony tooy quaffs her paly
stream Of lustre from the solar beam; Then hence with all your sober thinking
Since Nature's holy law is drinking; I'll make the law of Nature mine. And
pledge the universe in wine. — Anacreon.
*^ Coasts to Wint *& Wine, dear boy, and truth. ----ALCffiUS. God of the Grape! thou hast betray'd In wine's bewildering dream The fairest
swan that ever played Along the muse's stream. Mix the brimmer—Love and I Shall no more the contest try. Here upon this holy
bowl I surrender all my soul. —Anacreon. Drink today and drown all sorrow; You shall, perhaps, not drink tomorrow;
Best while you have it, use your breath; There is no drinking after death. — Beaumont and Fletcher. There's death in the cup — sae beware! Nay, more,—there is danger in touching; But wha can avoid the fell snare? The man and his wine's sae bewitching! i____ — Burns. Come, fill the cup, and in the fire of Spring Your Winter garment of
Repentance fling; The Bird of Time has but a little way To flutter,—and the Bird is on the
Wing. — Omar. 2
As the nightingale from rose-tree sips, Wise it is, and knows that it is
good; Thus with wine we damp our rosy lips,— Wise are we, and know that it is good. Like a spectre-king that unseen trips From the depths of some far-honey'd wood, Wine should pass the rose-gate of our lips,— Wise are we, and know that it is
good. _______ ----BoDENSTEDT. Gentle friends, forbear to laugh As I toast the wine I quaff— Scarce the
wisdom Omar found All its bounty can expound; As its happy lover sips, All its
fragrance haunts his lips, All its warmth along the veins Flowing from the cup
he drains; All its brightness his enhances As it sparkles in his glances, All
its kindliness awhile Lingering upon his smile. Fair companions, what can be
Truer friend to you and me ? Love his troth may soon dissever,— Wine gives all,
and gives forever. — George Sterling. Let us have wine and women, mirth and laughter— Sermons and soda-water the
day after. __B 3
Coasts to T&int Ah, my beloved, fill the cup that clears Today of past regrets and future
fears; Tomorrow!—why, tomorrow I may be Myself with yesterday's sev'n thousand
years! — Omar. Yesterday this Day's madness did prepare Tomorrow's silence, triumph or
despair; Drink! for you know not whence you came, nor why; Drink! for you know not why you go, nor where. ~ — Omar. " God made man, frail as a bubble; Man made love — love made trouble, God
made the vine,— Then, is it a sin That man made wine To drown trouble in?" CA Frenchman drinks his native wine, A German drinks his beer; An Englishman his 'alf and 'alf, Because it brings good cheer; The Scotchman drinks his whisky straight, Because it brings on dizziness; An American has no choice at all,— He drinks the whole damned business." 4
"In dulcijubilo Sing we, make merry so ! Since our heart's pleasure Latet in
poculo, Drawn from the cask, good measure, Pro hoc convivio Nunc, nunc bibito ! " O crater parrule How my soul yearns for thee! Make me now merry, O potus
optime. Claret or hock or sherry! Et vos concinite: Vivant socii! " 0 vini caritas ! O Bacchi knit as! We've drained our purses Per mult a
pocula: Yet hope we for new mercies. Nummorum gandia: Would that we had them,
ah! " Ubi sunt gandia ? Where, If that they be not there ? There the lads are
singing Silecta c antic a: There are glasses ringing In villae curia. Oh, would
that we were there!" 5
Coasts to Settle **&> Inspiring, bold John Barleycorn, What dangers thou canst make us scorn! — Burns. When Father Time swings round his scythe, Entomb me 'neath the bounteous
vine, So that its juices red and blythe May cheer these thirsty bones of mine. — Eugene Field. The miser may be pleased with gold, The sporting man with pretty lass; But I'm best pleased when I behold The nectar sparkling in the glass." 'Tis pity wine should be so deleterious, For tea and coffee leave us much
more serious. — Byron. With mirth and laughter, let old wrinkles come, And let my liver rather heat
with wine Than my heart cool with mortifying gloom. — Shakespeare. Drink to me only with thine eyes, And I will pledge with mine; Or leave a kiss within the cup, And I'll not ask for wine. — Ben Jonsoh. 6
Coasts to Wint ^ Say, why did Time His glass sublime Fill up with sands unsightly, When wine, we know, Runs brisker through And sparkles far more brightly ? Oh, lend it us, And, smiling thus, The glass in two we'd sever, Make pleasure glide In double tide And fill both ends forever! Then wreathe the bowl With flowers of soul, The brightest wit can find us, We'll take a flight Towards heaven tonight And leave dull earth behind us! — Tom Moore. In the goblet's magic measure, In the wine's all-powerful spirit, Lieth
poison or—delight, Lieth purest—basest pleasure, E'en according to the merit Of
the drinker ye invite. ----BODENSTEDT. Eat, drink, be merry, seize the present hour; Deem not the future holds a
fairer flower." 7
Man, being reasonable, must get drunk; The best of life is but intoxication,— Glory, the grape, love, gold, — in
these are sunk The hopes of all men, and of every nation. — Byron. "The generous wine brings joy divine, And beauty charms our soul; I, while on
earth, will still with mirth Drink — beauty and the bowl." No chord of music has yet been found To even equal that sweet sound Which, to
my mind, all else surpasses,— The clink of ice in crystal glasses." Let those who drink not, but austerely dine, Dry up in law; the Muses smell
of wine. — Horace. "On the table spread the cloth, Let the knives be sharp and clean; Pickles get, and salad both, Let them each be fresh and green. With small beer, good ale and wine, O ye
gods ! how I shall dine!"
Coasts to Wint 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. The purple-globed
clusters their life dews have bled; How sweet is the breath of the fragrance
they shed! For summer's last roses lie hid in the wines That were garnered by
maidens who laughed thro' the Vines. —Oliver Wendell Holmes. 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! — Oliver Wendell Holmes. Allow this sacred cordial to joy and freshen thee! Let all abstemious
brethren in their own folly sink; No drop we know is wasted of that which sages
drink! D -----OODENSTEDT. Once more fill a bumper—never talk of the hour; Our hearts thus united, old
Time has no power. May our lives, tho' alas! — like the wine of tonight, They
must soon have an end, — to the last, flow as bright! — Tom Moore. 9
Coasts to Wint Drink not unfeelingly, nor yet unthinking drink! Boast not too vauntingly,
nor yet completely sink! Where dazzling goblets shine, heed not the water ewer,— He is not worthy wine who will not drink it pure! In it the power lies to raise and to undo; From out, our goblets rise wisdom
and folly, too. But though in price of vine evil and good endure,— He is not
worthy wine who will not drink it pure! ----BODENSTEDT. A pretzel and un stein o' peer, And thou, mit sixteen kinder, Ach, my lieber
frau, Sitting beside me, those garden in,— Ach! dat were baradise already now! — After Omar. Fill the cup and let it come, I'll pledge you a mile to the bottom. — Shakespeare — Henry IF. I cannot eat but little meat,— My stomach is not good; But sure I think that I can drink With him that wears a hood. — Bishop Still. io
*£f Coasts to Wint ^ A fellow's heart may nigh be broke, A fellow's pocket, too; But there's always joy for the blithesome boy Whose thirst is ever new. _D CoSGRAVE> Pshaw, ye fools that talk of pleasure, Sitting by your goblets bright! He must be a sage can measure Wine's ineffable delight! ----BODENSTEDT. Though a sinner ye call me, I say it the same,— Wine is nectar delicious, To scorn it a shame. ----BODENSTEDT. 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. Let schoolmasters puzzle their brain With grammar and nonsense and learning; Good liquor, I stoutly maintain, Gives genius a better discerning. —Goldsmith. II
^8? Coasts to Wint Fill the goblet again, for I never before Felt the glow which now gladdens my heart to its core; Let us drink—who would not? — since, through life's varied round, In the goblet alone no deception is found. ______ —Byron. A reveler I go, freighted with fire, not wine, beneath the region of my
heart. _Meleager. Drink and b& merry. What the morrow brings No mortal knoweth ; wherefore toil
or run ? Spend while thou mayst, eat, fix on present things Thy hopes and wishes; life
and death are one. One moment; grasp life's goods; to thee they fall,— Dead, thou hast nothing, and another all. _____ — Pallades. Wine is the milk of the old, the balm of adults and the vehicle of the
gourmand. — A. B. L. Grimod de la Reyniere. Drink, luckless lover! Thy heart's fiery rape Bacchus, who gives oblivion, shall assuage; Drink deep; and while thou drain'st the brimming bowl, Drive love's dark anguish from thy fevered soul. — Meleager. 12
Coasts to Wint *& Here's to the grape! When our summers are flown The age of our nectar Will
gladden our own. We must die! Who will not? But should our sins be forgiven, Then Hebe will never be idle in heaven! —Byron. 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 ? —Anacreon. Brisk, methinks I am, and fine, When I drink my cap'ring wine; Then to love I
do incline When I drink my wanton wine; And I wish all maidens mine When I drink
my sprightly wine; Well I sup and well I dine When 1 drink my frolic wine; — But
I languish, lower and pine When I want my fragrant wine. Herrick. 13
Coasts to Wint Thou sleepest friend, but see, the beakers call! Awake, nor dote on death
that waits for all. Spare not, my Diodorus, but drink free Till Bacchus loose
each weak and faltering knee. Long will the years be when we can't arouse,—
Long, long; up, then, ere age hath touched our brows.
p„Mm„ -----TALLADES. Nay! think no more, but grip the slender waist Of her whose kisses leave no
bitter taste. Reason's a hag, and Love a painted jade,— Come, daughter of the
vine, dear and disgraced! — R. LeGallienne. Drink to the girls, and drink to their mothers, Drink to their fathers and
drink to their brothers; Toast their dear healths as long as you're able, And
dream of their charms while you're under the table. ____
_D. c. Kings it makes gods, and meaner creatures, kings. — Shakespeare. Then let the goblet gleam for me, my friend ; Pour forth care-soothing wine
ere pleasures end. — Pallades. Drink wine, and live here blitheful while ye may; The morrow's life too late
is,—live today! — Herrick. H
Coasts to Wint ^ 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. «If with water you fill up your glasses, You'll never write anything wise,
For wine's the true horse of Parnassus Which carries a bard to the skies!" Then never let us vainly stray In search of thorns from pleasure's way, But wisely quaff the rosy wave Which Bacchus loves,which Bacchus gave; And in the goblet rich and deep, Cradle our crying woes to sleep! —Tom Moore. When Bacchus, Jove's immortal boy, The rosy harbinger of joy, Who, with the
sunshine of the bowl, Thaws the winter of our soul,— When to my inmost core he
glides And bathes it with his ruby tides,— A flow of joy, a lively heat, Fires
my brain and wings my feety Calling around me visions known To lovers of the
bowl alone. — Tom Moore. *5
Coasts to Wint "Bless the grape, and let it pour Round the board its purple shower; And
while the drops my goblet steep, I think in love the clusters weep." Oh, if delight could charm no more, If all the goblet's bliss were o'er, Wh^n
fate had once our doom decreed, Then dying would be death indeed! Nor could I
think, unblest by wine, Divinity itself divine. _ ToM Moore OM King Coke Was a thirsty old soak And a boozy old sot, you bet; And why he was dry Is a problem we'll try To attribute to fondness for wet. _____ —D. C. To Beer. Ale is meat, drink and cloth; it will make a cat speak and a wise man dumb.
__Swift Come, sit we by the fireside And roundly drink we here, Till that we see our cheeks all dyed And noses tanned with beer. — Herrick. 16 i,
To Whisky. Whisky, bedad, is more than mate To kape alive the soul; So here's our sneers to all who hate The overflowing bowl. But to the byes and lasses swate Who love a sip o' rye, We drink, that they disconsolate Shall never live or die. May care slide from them like the drink Slips down your throat and mine, Where whisky bubbles at the brink We ne'er shall look for wine. —Wilbur G. Zeigler. " Here's to you that makes me wear old clothes; Here's to you that turns my
friends to foes,— But seeing you're so near,—here goes!" O thou my muse! guid auld Scotch drink! Whether thro' wimpling worms thou jink, Or, richly brown, ream o'er the brink In glorious fame, Inspire me till I lisp and wink To sing thy name! _Burns_ 17
Coasts to Wint O whisky! soul o' plays an' pranks! Accept a bardie's humble thanks! When
wanting thee, what timeless cranks Are my poor verses !
-Burns. Claret is the liquor for boys, port for men, but he who aspires to be a hero
must drink brandy. — Samuel Johnson. A drop of whisky Ain't a bad thing right here. — Bret Harte. While life was mine, the little hour In drinking still unvaried flew; I drank as earth imbibes the shower, Or as the rainbow drinks the dew; As ocean quaffs the rivers up, Or flushing sun inhales the sea; Silenus trembled at my cup, And Bacchus was outdone by me! — Capilupus. 18
The Woman that's Good! }{o, gentlemen! Lift your glasses up, Each gallant, each swain and lover; A kiss to the beads that brim in the cup, A laugh for the foam spilt over. For the soul is alit and the heart beats
high, And care has unloosened its tether; "Now drink," said the sage, "for tomorrow
we die," So let's have a toast together. Swing the goblet aloft, to the lips let it
fall, Then bend you the knee to address her, And drink, gentle sirs, to the queen
of them all — To the woman that's good— God bless her ! A youth is a madcap, and time is a churl; Pleasure palls, and remorse follows after; The world hustles on in its
pitiless whirl, With its kisses, its tears and its laughter. But there's one gentle heart in
its bosom of white, The maid with the tender eyes gleaming, Who has all the wealth of my homage
tonight, Where she lies in her innocent dreaming. And a watch o'er her spirit shall
keep, »9
*w* Coasts to Womnn While the angels lean down to caress her; And F11 pledge her again in her
beautiful sleep,— The woman that's good—God bless her I Ah! Bohemia s honey was sweet to the sip,— The song and the dance were alluring {The mischievous maid with the mutinous
lip Had a charm that was very enduring) ; But out from the smoke wreaths and
music and lace Of that world of the tawdrily clever, There floats the rare spell of a pure
little face That has chased away folly forever. And I drain my last toast, ere I go to my
rest (O fortunate earth to possess her!) — To the dear, tender heart in the little
white breast Of the woman that's good—God bless her! — Wynne. 20
" 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." Woman's will bears contradiction,— If a man ye be, and ware,— But they won't endure conviction; Logic women cannot bear. For them only three conclusions: Kisses, tears, and
love effusions. ----BoDENSTEDT. " Here's to the girls we've asked, old pal, Here's to the girls who said c
nay.' 'Tis better for us they treated us thus, For they're driving the Mormons away." Here's to the elf of my childhood, Here's to the maid of my youth; Here's to the girl who gave me her hand, But refused me her lips, forsooth 1 —D. C. 21
Coasts to ^ontan "To woman, the only loved autocrat who elects without voting, Governs without
law, and decides without appeal." Here's to the club girl, Here's to the tub girl, HereVto the lass who looks
you through; Here's to the mannish girl, Here's to the clannish girl,— Drink
to'em standing,—the petticoat crew! — D. C. " The woods are full of fairies, The sea is full offish; But the thing I want
is a woman,— And that's a manly wish." A book of verses underneath the Bough, A jug of Wine, a loaf of Bread—and
Thou Beside me singing in the Wilderness, O Wilderness were Paradise enow! — Omar. Here's to woman! — ah, that we could fall into her arms without falling into
her hands! —Ambrose Bierce. 22
Coasts to l^oman W 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. Give me the glass that felt her lippe, And happy, happy shall I sippe; And
when is fled the daintie wyne, Something remaineth still divyne. — Peter Pindar. "No matter their color,—we'll drink to the eyes That weep when we weep — when
we laugh, laugh replies!" Here's to that most fascinating woman,the widow of some other man! ■ Carolus Ager. 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. 'You may drink to her eyes, her lips, and her hair, Her form divine,
distingue air; But here's to the girl with a heart and a smile, Who makes this
bubble of life worth while!" 23 jmi.
**& Coasts to 5^oman ^ Just Two. In a world of ceaseless changes, Where all things fade and pine, Where love, like fancy, ranges, There are just two hearts worth knowing: Just two, whose constant glowing No sign of change is showing,— Your heart, sweetheart, and mine. So, as we stand at parting, Each glass abrim with wine, And feel, with
passion starting, Your fingers thrill to mine,— With a sigh that neither misses,
Let's flood the wine with blisses, And drink, like good night kisses, To thy
heart, sweet, and mine! —John McNaught. " Here's to God's first thought, f Man'! Here's to God's second thought,c Woman'! Second thoughts are always best, So,
here's to Woman! " Here's to our wives, sisters and sweethearts! Here's to love, honor and
fame! Here's to the girl we think of, but— The girl we never name!" 2+
Coasts to ^oman The Wimmin! So let us all, yes, by that love which all our lives rejoices, . By those dear eyes that speak to us with love s seraphic voices, By those dear arms that will enfold us when we sleep forever, By those dear lips that kiss the lips that may give answer never, By mem'ries lurkin' in our hearts an' all our eyes bedimmin', We'll drink a health to those we love, an' who love us—the wimmin! — Eugene Field's Toast to the Ladies. Why long for the absent, sigh for the past ? The sweetest of life from first
to the last Is the sweet that stays with us and ever is near. Be it wine that
sparkles, or wine that glows, White as the moonlight, or red as the rose,— Let
us pour it and drink it as fast as it flows, To the sweetest of sweets — the
sweets that are here! —John McNaught. Here's to the love in her heart And the rainbows in her eyes, Which cover with gorgeous hues The blackness of my skies. — Bade. 25
Coasts to 3^ontan <*=#* The Girl of California. The girl of old Virginia is a thoroughbred of vim, And the damsel of New England's intellectual but prim, Antl the maid of Indiana, when she's healthy country born, Has a soul as blithe and hearty as the sun upon the corn. You may sing their charms and graces And the beauty of their faces, You may
swear you've met the fairest of a half a hundred races,— But your valiant boasts take care, sir, And your gallant toasts beware, sir,
Till you've gazed upon the girl of California. Here the Orient pomegranate ripens glorious on the trees, Here the groves are hung with golden apples of Hesperides, Here the peaks are white in summer far above the fir and pine While the vale below is purple with the grape upon the vine; And the merry time of sowing Follows close upon the mowing And the hedges
smile with roses that at Christmas time are growing,— 26
Coasts to 3^otnan But reserve your admiration And delight for that occasion When you see the
girl that grows in California. In her eyes the purple vintage, in her voice a note you feel Somewhat fondly reminiscent of the songs of old Castile; But the Argonauts have blessed her with an independent fire, Though
her heart's as big and wholesome as the acres of her sire. If you'd woo her, have a care, For she's wilful as she's fair, And there's
call for Cupid's mettle if he'd trap her in his snare,— But you'll suffer like a stoic Any sacrifice heroic Should it win for you the
girl of California. —Wallace Irwin. To The Hostess. Here's to the hostess who has worried all day, And trembled lest everything
go the wrong way; May the grace of contentment possess her at once, May her
guests—and her servants—all do the ° ' — Francis Wilson. 27
W Coasts to Womm H Our German Freundinnen! Of you I think, Germania's daughters fine! You are like flowers, "hold und
schoen und rein." O' the Rhenish land I'd fain possess a slice, ^Where hills and
dales are all so full of spice. 'Tis happiness to worship at your shrine, Great joy lies hid within the
Rhine's embrace; So, here I lift the dear old Stein And drink to you with German
grace! — P. H. T. There are no times like the old times — they shall never be forgot; There is no place like the old place— keep green the dear old spot! There are no friends like the old friends — may heaven prolong their lives! There are no loves like the old loves,— God bless our loving wives! — Oliver Wendell Holmes. A wife as tender and as true withal, As the first woman was before her fall;
Made for the man, of whom she is a part, Made to attract his eyes and keep his
heart! — Dryden. 28
Coasts to Ionian ^#? Here's to the maiden of bashful fifteen, Here's to the widow of fifty; Here's to the flaunting, extravagant queen, And
here's to the housewife that's thrifty! Let the toast pass, Drink to the lass,—
I warrant she'll prove an excuse for the glass! 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! Let the toast pass, etc. 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 here's to the damsel that's
merry! Let the toast pass, etc. _SheriDan. : A woman is like,—but stay,— What a woman is like, who can say ? There's no
living with or without one." "Here's to woman, a mistress of arts, who robs a bachelor of his degree, and
sometimes even forces him to study philosophy by means of— curtain lectures!" 29
*& Coasts to 2£ontan ^ Age cannot wither nor custom stale Her infinite variety.
_ShakespeAre. " Here's to the woman," sensitive, swift to resent, but,as swift in atoning
for error! _LoNGFELLOW> Here's to the woman who has Grace in all her steps, heaven in her eye, In every gesture dignity and love! — Milton. For though they almost blush to reign, Though love's own flowers weave the
chain, Disguise the bondage as we will, 'Tis woman,—woman rules us still! — Longfellow. The world was sad, the garden was a wild, A.nd man, the hermit, sighed till
woman smiled. — Campbell. " 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!" 3°
Coasts to ^otnan It warms me, it charms me, To mention her name; It heats me, it beats me, And sets me u'on flame! • Burns. "Woman,—she needs no eulogy, she speaks for herself!" ____ "Here's to Woman — once our superior, now our equal!" ____ Here's health! And would on earth there stood Some more of such a frame, That life might be all poetry, And weariness a name. — Edward Coate Pinckney. " Come in the evening, or come in the morning, Come when you're looked for,
or come without warning; A thousand welcomes you'll find here before you— The oftener you come here, the more we'll adore you." _____ " Here's to the world's greatest consolations — flowing wine, smiling women!" 31
Coasts to ^oman Here's to Woman, the cause of most tempests that agitate mankind!
_j j RoussEAU< Then drink, brave gentlemen, drink with me, To the beautiful ladies of our city; A glass, a toast, a song and a rhyme To the dear little saints of our golden time!" : Brisk wine and lovely women are The source of all our joys; A bumper softens all our care, And beauty never cloys. Then let us drink and let us love While yet our hearts are gay; Women and wine we all approve As blessing night and day." Here's hoping you will live one thousand years; Here's hoping I will live one
thousand years less one day! How could I live on that day Knowing that you had passed away!" To earth's noblest thing,—a woman perfected! —James Russell Lowell. 32
Coasts to ^ontan ^^ Woman,—the true source of all our joys! The mother, the sister, the wife, the
true, sympathetic friend! Without her the first man found the Garden of Eden but
a desert; for her kings have given up their thrones, generals have left their
armies, and the course of empire has turned aside. When she ceases to exist, the
human race will no longer survive. She is to man " the rainbow in his storms of
life, the evening beam that smiles the clouds away, and tints the morrow with
prophetic ray!" —James A. Cooper. Woman! be fair,—we must adore thee! Smile, — and a world is weak before thee! —Tom Moore. " Here's to the gladness of her gladness when she's glad! Here's to the sadness of her sadness when she's sad! But the gladness of her gladness And the sadness of her sadness Are not
in it with her madness when she's mad!" " Here's lovers two to the maiden true, And four to the maid caressing; But
the wayward girl with the lips that curl Keeps twenty lovers guessing." 33
^ Coasts to 3^otnan Then remember whenever your goblet is crowned, To the eastward or westward,
wherever you roam, Whenever the health of dear woman goes round, Remember the
smiles that adorn her at home! —Tom Moore. Here's to a good girl,— Not too" good, for the good die young, And we don't like dead ones!" "After man came woman,—and she has been after him ever since." When Eve, upon the first of men The apple pressed with specious cant, Oh, what a thousand pities, then, That Adam was not Adamant! —Thomas Flood. Other bards may sing of battle, Praising mosques and princes' worth; But of
roses, wine and women Ever I the same will sing! ----BODENSTEDT. " Here's to the Love that lies in Woman's eyes, And lies — and lies — and
lies!" 3+
Coasts to ^otnan "^ - " The fairest work of the great Author; the edition is large, and no man
should be without a copy." ____ 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, And let us e'en toast them
together! — Sheridan. "Here's to woman, whom we admire for her beauty, respect for her
intelligence, adore for her virtue, and love because we can't help it!" " Here's to woman, whose heart and whose soul Are the light and the life of
each spell we pursue; Whether sunn'd at the tropics or chilled at the pole, If
woman be there, there is happiness, too!" " Here's to the prettiest, Here's to the wittiest, Here's to the truest of
all who are true; Here's to the neatest one, Here's to the sweetest one, Here's
to them all in one—here's to you!" 35
*** Coasts to Ionian Here's to the girl that I love, And here's to the girl who loves me; And here's to all that love her whom I love, And all those who love her who
loves me! ----OuiDA. A perfect woman likeneth to a fount, Whose clear, pure waters bubble as they mount, A very revelation of the Lord! ----BoDENSTEDT. Methinks my rhymes my songs should grace, Like garments that thy limbs
embrace; Fair tho' their folds, the silk, tho' rare, What it contains must be
more fair. ----BoDENSTEDT. She is so free, so kind, so apt, so blessed a disposition.
____ -Shakespeare. A perfect woman, nobly planned, To warm, to comfort and command. —Wordsworth. 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, and encouragement for every hope! — Sainte-Foix. 36
Coasts to Womm " Toasts of love to the timid dove Are always going 'round; Let mine be
heard: To the untamed bird,-And make your glasses sound." " Here's to the girl that's good and sweet, r Here's to the girl that's true;
Here's to the girl that rules my heart,— In other words, here's to you!" " What's a table richly spread Without a woman at its head? " For me, I'm woman's slave confessed,— Without her, hopeless and unblessed. —James Hogg. Drink to life and the passing show, And the eyes of the prettiest girl you
know. — E. Foreman. Here's health to the maiden and health to the dame, And health to the gay little widow, the same; May the maid become dame,
the dame widow, and then May the widow be made to get married again!" 37
*& Coasts to 5^omatt "Here's to the tongue of woman; it never wears out!" ____ " Here's to our dear old mother-in-law, With all her freaks and capers, For
were it not for dear old ma, What would become of the * comic papers'?" Here's to our wives, who fill our lives With little bees and honey! They break life's shocks, they mend our socks,— But don't they spend the money!" Here's to our better halves, Who reconcile us to our poorer quarters! _____
— F. M. Whoe'er she be, That not impossible she, That shall command my heart and me! — Crashaw. "To woman's love — to man's not akin, For her heart is a home, while his
heart is an 38
Coasts to Womm From barest rocks to bleakest shore Where farthest sail unfurls, That stars and stripes are streaming o'er,- God bless our Yankee girls! — Oliver Wendell Holmes. " Here's to women who are tender, Here's to women who are slender, Here's to
women who are large and fat and red; Here's to women who are married, Here's to
women who have tarried, Here's to women who are speechless,—but they're dead1." " Here's to woman, the source of all our bliss; There's a foretaste of heaven
in her kiss; But from the queen upon her throne to the maiden in the dairy, They are all alike, in one respect—contrary!" Fill me with the rosy wine, Call a toast—a toast divine! Give the poet's
darling flame, Lovely Jessie be the name,— Then thou mayest freely boast Thou
hast given a peerless toast! — Burns. 39
^ Coasts to 3^oman <*#? A toast, if ye will, to a sweetheart true, And a wife of faith undaunted; And drink in the praise of their fetching
ways, To charms that have long been vaunted; And drink to the eyes and drink to the
lips, Aye, drink, and since drink ye must, But when ye've done, drink, every one, To the girl the women trust! — N. G. Braunhart. If to loveliness I could build a shrine Where all the world might bend the knee, I'd but lend to it a charm divine '
By making it a throne for thee! — I. H. Kempner. Here's to the land that gave me birth, Here's to the flag she flies; Here's to her sons, the best on 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! — Frank Pixley. " Here's to our wives and sweethearts ! May our sweethearts become our wives,
and our wives ever remain our sweethearts!" 40
**& Coasts to 5^otnan *& Drink to her who long Hath waked the poet's sigh,— The girl who gave to song What gold could never buy! Oh, woman's heart was made For minstrel hands alone; By other fingers played It yields not half the tone! Then here's to her who long Hath waked the poet's sigh,— The girl who gave to song What gold can never buy! At beauty's door of glass, Where Wealth and Wit once stood, They asked her, "Which might pass?" She answered, " He who could." With golden key Wealth thought To pass—but 'twould not do, While Wit a diamond brought Which cut his bright way through. Then here's to her, etc. The love that seeks a home Where wealth and grandeur shines, Is like the gloomy gnome That dwells in dark gold mines. But oh, the poet's love Can boast a brighter sphere; Its native home's above,— Though woman keeps it here! Then drink to her, etc. —Tom Moore. 11= 41
O woman! Perfect woman! What distraction was meant to mankind when thou wast
made a devil! — Beaumont and Fletcher. Here's to woman, the Sunday of man! ----MlCHELET. Here's to the chaperone! May she learn from Cupid Just enough blindness To be sweetly stupid! — Oliver Herford. So here's to thee, my gentle dear, And may that eyelid never shine Beneath a darker, bitterer tear Than bathes it in this bowl of mine! —Tom Moore. "Here's to the hostess! May she be hung, drawn and quartered! May she be hung
with jewels, drawn in a coach and four, and quartered in a palace!"
____ " 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!" 4*
Coasts to Woman A wit should be no more sincere than a woman constant.
— Congreve. " 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 decollete, She'll think a kiss no sin; And that's the kind of summer girl, Alas! that seems to win." Her voice was the voice the stars had when they sang together.
_DanTe Gabriel Rossettk Now, boys, just a moment! You've all had your say, While enjoying yourselves in so pleasant 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;— Don't frown when I tell you this toast beats
all others,— But drink one more toast, boys, a toast to c Our Mothers!'" 43
§** Coasts to 5^oman Mother! "c I drink to one,' he said, 4 Whose image never may depart, — Deep-graven on
this heart Till memory be dead; Whose love for me shall longer last, While
lighter passions all have passed, So holy 'tis and true! Whose love for me hath
longer dwelt, More firmly fixed, more keenly felt, Than any pledged to you!' " Each knight upstarted at the word, And had his hand upon his sword With
fury flashing eye; And Stanly cried: c We crave the name, Proud knight, of that
most beauteous dame Whose love you hold so high.' St. Leon paused, as though He
did not care to breathe that name In careless mood thus lightly to another; Then
bent his noble head As though to give that name the reverence due, And gently
said, 'My Mother!'" " I have known many, liked a few, Loved but one,—so here's to you!" 44
r Coasts to iHati ^ Friendship. <?he daylight is gone, but before we depart, One cup shall go round to the friend of my heart,— The kindest, the dearest, — oh, judge by the tear I now shed while I name him, how kind and how dear! Oh, say, is it thus in the mirth-bringing hour, JVhen friends are assembled, when wit, in full flower, Shoots forth from the lip in Bacchus s dew, In blossoms of thought ever springing and new,— Do you sometimes remember and hallow the brim Of your cup with a sigh as you
crown it to him Who is lonely and sad in these valleys so fair, And would pine
in Elysium if friends were not there? —Tom Moore. 45
Coasts to JEan We've drunk as much as we're able, And the cross swings low for the morn; Last toast—and your foot on the table—■ A health to the Native born! —Kipling. May he live Longer than I have time to tell his years! Ever beloved and
loving may his rule be; And, when old Time shall lead him to his end, Goodness
and he fill up one monument! — Shakespeare. Whereby discernest thou the fairest flowers ? By leaf and hue! Whereby discernest thou the purest wines ? By taste—if true ! Whereby discernest thou the worthiest men ? By what they do ! _Bodenstedt. An honest man, close-buttoned to the chin, Broadcloth without and a warm
heart within. — Cowper. His heart was as great as the world, but there was no room in it to hold the
memory of wrong. — Emerson. 46
<^ Coasts to ;$lan *^? Here's to our bachelors, created by God for the consolation of widows and the
hope of maidens! — De Finod. Why should he talk, whose presence lends a grace To every table where he
shows his face! , —Oliver Wendell Holmes. With him who quaffs his pot of ale, Who holds to all an even scale, Who hates
a knave in each disguise, And fears him not, whate'er his size,— With him well
pleased my days to pass, May Heaven forbid the Parting Glass! — Philip Freeman. " Brother to a prince and fellow to a beggar if he be found worthy." "We may live without books,—what is knowledge but grieving? Wc may live without 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 din- ing?" 47
Here's to the eyes that are tender and gray, Here's to the eyes that are blue; Here's to the eyes that are black or brown So long as the eyes speak true! Here's to the eyes of the one I love, Here's to the one I trust,— I do not love him because I will, I love him because I must. Here's to the eyes that never rove In search of each fair, fresh face; Here's to a man who loves a maid For her winsome ways and dainty grace! Here's to the rarest thing on earth, A pearl that hath no stain,— A man who has never been false to his vows, And the lips where his own hath lain! — A. G. Hales. Here's to thee, O elegant scholar,— To thy grace of speech and thy skill in turning phrases, Thou hast language for all thoughts and feelings! — Longfellow. " Here's to that wise man — he who knows himself!" Let every man be master of his time till seven at night.
c O
-----SHAKESPEARE. 48
" There's a beautiful toast, To a feminine host, There's a swing to the {Ladies, God bless 'em !' But the women should cry,
With their glasses on high, A toast to the men who dress 'em!" "Money to him who has spirit to use it, And life to him who has courage to
lose it!" " His tongue dropped manna, and could make the worse appear the better reason
— a bumper to him!" ____ My teacher is Hafiz, the tavern my church, Good comrades and wine the extent
of my search! Thus, in all merry circles in which I arise They praise and esteem
me, and call me—the wise. ----BODENSTEDT. " Here's to our friends in Heaven, Here's to our friends in Hell! And damned
be the man who kisses a girl And will then go round and tell!" " He stood four square to all the winds that blow." 49
*t? Coasts to Jftan ^? And had he failings, they would lean to virtue's Slde!
_____ —Goldsmith. " Here's to the young saint — old sinner; Here's to the young sinner—old
saint!" Oh, here's to the good, and the bad men, too, For without them saints would
have nothing to do! Oh, I love them both, and I love them well, But which I love
better, I never can tell!" To man, who, by his life alone, Gracious and sweet, the better way has shown! —Whittier. " 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 should be loving his own!" " Bring the white blossoms of the waning year; Heap with full hands the peaceful conqueror's shrine, Whose bloodless
triumphs cost no sufferer's tear! Hero of knowledge, be our tribute thine!" 50
" Here's to long life and prosperity! — And those that don't drink with
sincerity, May they be damned to eternity!" "To the model husband—always some other woman's!" ____ To fill a bright cup with the sunlight that gushed When the dead summer's
jewels were trampled and crushed; The true Knight of Learning,—the world holds him dear,— Love bless him, joy crown him, God speed his — Oliver Wendell Holmes. God bless the great Professor, And the land his proud possessor,— Bless them now and evermore! — Oliver Wendell Holmes. The friend of all his race, God bless him! — Oliver Wendell Holmes. We mutually pledge to each other our lives, our fortunes and our sacred honor! t™b1,.„„ —Jefferson. 5»
Coasts to j$tatt " Who misses or who wins the prize, Go, lose or conquer as you can; But if
you fail, or if you rise, Be each, pray God, a gentleman !" Here's to the orator ! for There is no true orator who is not a hero ! — Emerson. " Not drunk is he who from the floor Can rise again, and drink some more; But
drunk is he who prostrate lies, And who can neither drink nor rise." " There came to the beach a poor exile from Erin; The dew on his wet robe
hung heavy and chill. Ere the steamer that brought him had passed out of hearing
He was 'Alderman Mike' introducing a bill! " Praise me not too much, nor blame me, for thou speakest to the Greeks, who
know me. — Bryant. A gentleman who loves to hear himself talk, and will speak more in a minute
than he will stand to in — Shakespeare. 52
To a Priest. Of all the guests at life's perennial feast, Who of her children sits above
the priest ? For him the broidered robe, the carven seat, Pride at his beck, and
beauty at his feet; For him the incense fumes, the wine is poured, Himself a
god, adoring and adored! His the first welcome when our hearts rejoice, His in
our dying ear the latest voice; Font, altar, grave, his steps on all attend, Our
staff, our stay, our all but heavenly friend! — Oliver Wendell Holmes. Truth from his lips prevailed with double sway, And fools who came to scoff
remained to pray. — Goldsmith. To a Doctor. The best of all the pill-box crew, Since ever time began, Are the doctors who have most to do With the health of a healthy man. And so I count them up again, And praise them as I can: There's Dr. Diet, And Dr. Quiet, And Dr. Merryman! ----W. DuFFIELD. 53
^ Coasts to JEan ^ How blest he is who knows no meaner strife Than Art's long battle with the
foes of life! No doubts assail him, doing still his best, And trusting kindly
Nature for the rest. How sweet his fireside when the day is done And cares have vanished with the
setting sun! Soft be thy pillow, servant of mankind, Lulled by an opiate Art
could never find; Sweet be thy slumber — thou hast earned it well; Pleasant thy
dreams! — (Clang, goes the bell!) — Oliver Wendell Holmes. The doctors are our friends, let's please them well, For though they kill but
slow they are certain. — Beaumont and Fletcher. Lawyers. A bumper To a group of Wranglers from the bar, Suspending here their mimic war! — Bloomfield. "To the humor of the law: 'Quips and sentences, and paper bullets of the
brain.'" "'Virtue in the middle,' said the devil, as he seated himself between two
lawyers." 54
Authors. " The writer's very good health. May he live to be as old as his
jokes!" He is the richest author that ever grazed the common of literature. ', —Johnson's Toast to Dr. Campbell. Here's to the writers: — May their thread be strong, May their span of life Be full and long, And when at last They are summoned hence, May these be
their words in self-defense: — The only words they need to say, " I was a writer in my day." — Kathryn Kendall. Poets. A guiding star thy heart: No lack of light or fragrance where thou, glad
poet, art! — Bodenstedt. " When Nature made him, she was in a rhythmical mood, and has been constant
to the last." Here's to the artist with god-seeing eyes, With his feet on earth and his
head in the skies! — Mary Bell. 55
"*# Coasts to JEan ^ To Artemus Ward. This North American has been a inmate of my 'ouse over two weeks, yit he has
n't made no attempts to scalp any member of my family. He has n't broke no cups
or sassers, or furniture of any kind. ( Hear, hear.) I find I can trust him with
lited candles. He eats his wittles with a knife and a fork. People of this kind
should be encurridged. I purpose 'is 'elth. (Loud 'plaws.) — From Punch, 1866. A health to the man on trail this night; may his grub hold out; may his dogs
keep their legs; may his matches never miss fire. —Jack London. Lincoln. Here's to ye, Mr. Lincoln! May you die both late and aisy, And when you lie with the top of each toe turned up to the roots of the daisy, May this be your epitaph nately writ: — "Tho'
traitors abused him vilely, He was honest and koind, and loved a joke, And he
pardoned Miles O'Riley." — M. O'R., a Cincinnati Journalist. 56
**& Coasts of §3>etttitnent '^ Here's health to you and wealth to you, Honors and gifts a thousand strong; Here's name to you and fame to you, Blessing 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! — Nannie B. Turner. 57
*4* Coasts of Sentiment ^ A health for the future, a sigh for the past,— We love, we remember, we hope
to the last; And for all the bare lies that the almanacs hold, While we've youth
in our hearts, we can never grow old. _ OLIVER Wendell Holmes. Here's to friendship—the shield that blunts the darts of adversity.
_ Mme> de Saint.Surin. Here's to the debris of life's shipwreck: Friendship, glory and love! May the
shores of our existence be strewn with them. _ Mme> de StaSu Here's to the only true language of love: "A kiss " —A. de Musset. Here's to love, the worker of miracles: He strengthens the weak and weakens
the strong; he turns wise men into fools and fools into wise men; he feeds the
passions and destroys reason, and plays havoc among young and old! — Marguerite de Valois. Here's to friendship—Love without his wings. — Byron. 58
When love is kind, cheerful and free, Love's sure to find welcome from me;
But when love brings heartache or pang, Tears and such things, love may go hang.
Else here I swear young love may go, For ought I care, to Jericho! —Tom Moore. Here's a sigh for those who love me, And a smile for those who hate; And whatever sky's above me, Here's a heart for every fate. — Byron. In the desert a fountain is springing; In the wide waste there still is a tree, And a bird in the solitude singing, That speaks to my spirit of thee. — Byron. Here's to the wings of friendship — may they never molt a feather.
-Dickens. There 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. 59
^^ 'Coasts of Sentiment Give me a spirit that on this life's rough sea Loves to have his sails rilled
with a lusty wind, Even till his sail-yards tremble, his masts crack, And his
rapt ship run on her sides so low That she drinks water and her keel plows air. — Chapman. I love everything that's old — old friends, old times, old manners, old
books, old wine. — Goldsmith. Thou hast no sorrow in thy song, no winter in th7 year'
_____ -Logan. " Here's to my friend, to whom, could I but rise to the starry realms above,
I 'd drink a bumper from the big dipper." " May your soul be in Glory three weeks before the devil knows you're dead." Oh, happy he whom destiny Did from the first design here, That he in mirth should walk the earth, A friend to love and wine here ! ----BoDENSTEDT. 60
" Here's to the friends we love so well, To those so far away! If a drink of
cheer would bring them here, We would drink the livelong day." Ah, how good it feels!—the hand of an old tnena.
______ — Longfellow. "Here's to the tears of friendship! May they crystallize as they fall, and be
worn as bright jewels on the bosoms of those we love!" The daylight is gone, but before we depart, One cup shall go round to the
friqnd of my heart! — Tom Moore. " May Sincerity ever quaff the toast that Friendship proposes!" O magic of love ! unembellished by you, Hath the garden a bush, or the
landscape a hue? Or shines there a vista in nature or art Like that which Love
opes thro' the eye to the heart? ______ -Tom Moore. Here's to friendship, the only rose without thorns! — Mlle. de Scudery. 61
<*#* Coasts of Sentiment " We'll drink to Love! Love, the one irresistible force that annihilates
distance, caste, prejudice and principles; Love, the pastime of the Occident,
the passion of the East; Love, that stealeth upon us like a thief in the night,
robbing us of rest, but bestowing in its place a gift more precious than the
sweetest sleep! Love is the burden of my toast: Here's looking at you ! " Let those love now who never loved before, And those who always loved, now
love the more! — Parnell. A health to you, good friends of mine, A plenty to you all; May each one be at his own house When Fortune makes her call! —Alonzo Rice. " Our absent friends ! Although out of sight, we recognize them with our
glasses." You may think this the merest lip service, my dear ( But give me a moment apart); Though the bubbles tonight have gone to my
head, The dregs have sunk deep in my heart. -—Mabel Craft Deering. 62
And here's to them that, like ourseP, Can push about the jorum; And here's to them that wish us well,— May a' that's gude watch o'er them; And here's to them we darna tell, The dearest o' the quorum! —Burns. To a Lost Love. Who wins his love shall lose her; Who loses her shall gain, For still the spirit wooes her, A soul without a stain, And memory still pursues her With longings not in vain! He dreams she grows not older The land of dreams among; Though all the world wax colder, Though all the songs be sung, In dreams doth he behold her Still fair and kind and young. — Andrew Lang. 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! ______ - Owen Meredith. Fate gives us parents; choice gives us friends. — Delille. 63
Coasts of Sentiment One cup in joy before the banquet ends, One thought for vanished, for transfigured friends; Stars on the living cope of heaven embossed, The heaven of love that o'er us
beams and bends. — Edmund Gosse. Cast away wisdom to the wind! One thing, but one alone, I know— Love beat e'en Jove, and made him blind! Upon Love's revel we will go. — Stratton. Instruct me now what love will do; 'Twill make a tongueless man to woo.
Inform me next what love will do; 'Twill strangely make a one of two. Teach me
besides what love will do; 'Twill quickly mar, and make ye, too. Tell me now,
last, what love will do; 'Twill hurt and heal a heart pierced through! — Sir John Suckling. To Freedom. Fold the broad banner-stripes over her breast,— Crown her with star-jewels,
Queen of the West! Earth for her heritage, God for her friend, She shall reign
over us, world without end ! — Oliver Wendell Holmes. 64
Bohemian Days. They are gone with our dreams, the dear days of the Past,— The days of Bohemia,—of friendship as white As the foam of the seas when they
curl to the blast, As steadfast and true as the lanterns of night. And voices are dumb that were ready to jest, And hands are now cold that were warmer than wine; And eyes that once glistened, and lips that were pressed, Are missing this
evening in your lives, and mine. God love her; God love him! And oh, for the years Unfurled like the leaves
from the rose's red heart! And oh, for the days when we whistled at fears, And dreamed that the glory
would never depart! So rise, kindred spirits, and be not ashamed If a tear wet your cheeks as you think of the dead; And empty your glasses to days that were famed,— The days of Bohemia, — dear
days that are sped ! —H. V. Sutherland. 65
#^ &oofr*feUoto0f)tp To Bohemia. To a land without a flag, without fleets and armies, whose decrees, emanating
from a free forum, are self-executing, and where the best rule; a land of
tranquil peace, where love is triumphant over death; a land limited by no
language and bound by no barriers, encompassing all who would enter and equal to
the demands of all who would labor; a land without tariffs, of unrestricted
intercourse with the universe, whose raw material is "airy nothing," and yet
whose productiveness is proverbial; a land whose population is bound together by
affection and common pursuits, and whose only progeny is the children of the
brain. Located far from the Empire of Silence and close to the settlement of
Utopia, embracing in its suburbs the Republic of Letters, its principal industry
is the expression of thought, and the freedom of its people is the condition of
their existence; their incentive is fame, their guerdon is glory, and their
happiness springs from ennobling employment and the consciousness of creative
work: and this land is called Bohemia! —James D. Phelan. 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 I most heartily cheer. — Burns. 66
To those who passed me on the highway and gave greeting and whom 1 shall
never meet again, to the possible friends who came my way and whose eyes
lingered as they fell on mine, may they ever be eager with youth and strong with
fellowship, may they never miss a welcome or want a comrade. — Anna Strunsky. A glass is good, 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 together. —John O'Keefe. There are bonds of all sorts in this world of ours, Fetters of friendship and
ties of flowers, And true lovers' knots, I ween; The girl and the boy are bound by a kiss, But
there's never a bond, old friend, like this,— We have drunk from the same canteen. — Charles G. Halpine ("Miles O'Reilly"). Here's a toast to the toast that good-fellowship lends With the sparkle of beer and of wine; May its sentiment always be deeper, my
friends, Than the foam on the top of the stein." 67
May we never want a friend nor a bottle to give him! When found, make a note of. __Dickens To the young, long life and treasure; To the old, all health and pleasure.
Let the world slide, let the world go; A fig for care and a fig for woe; If I
can't pay, why, I can owe,— And Death makes equal the high and low. — Heywood. Fill the bowl with rosy wine! Around our temples roses twine! Like the wine
and roses, smile. Today is ours; what do we fear? Today is ours; we have it
here. Let's treat it kindly that it may Wish, at least, with us to stay. Let's
banish business, banish sorrow, To the gods belongs tomorrow. — Anacreon. "Now I, friend, drink to you, friend, as my friend drank to me, and I,
friend, charge you, friend, as my friend charged me, that you, friend, drink to
your friend as my friend drank to me; and the more we drink together the merrier
we '11 be." 68
Here's to us all! God bless every one! — Dickens. " May your joys be as deep as the ocean and your sorrows as light as its
foam." Thou art ever a favored guest In every fair and brilliant throng,— No wit like thine to make the jest, No voice like thine to breathe the song. —Tom Moore. " We came into this world naked and bare, We go through this world full of
sorrow and care; We go out of this world—we know not where— But if we're
thoroughbreds here, we'll be thoroughbreds there." Then fill the bowl—away with care, Our joy shall always last,— Our hopes shall brighten days to come, And memory gild the past. —Tom Moore. Pour deep the rosy wine and drink a toast with me: Here's to the three:—Thee,
Wine and Camaraderie! —Tom Moore. 69
^ (gootisfeUotosfnp **> And let the loving-cup go round, The cup with blessed memories crowned, That flows whene'er we meet, my boys; No draft will hold a cup 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. Here's to those who wish us well, And those who don't, may go to-------Heaven. —James Keene. All cares to the wind let us merrily fling, For the damp, cold grave is a
dead-sure thing. It's a dead-sure thing we're alive tonight, And the damp, cold
grave is out of sight; So down with the sigh and up with the laugh, 'T is the
health of the gay and the happy, I quaff — Eleanor Davenport. "A cheerful glass, a pretty lass, A friend sincere and true, Blooming health,
good store of wealth, Attend on me and you." "Leave politics to statesmen and thinkers, But be jolly here with merry
drinkers." 70
Fill me, boys, as deep a draught As e'er was filled, as e'er was quaffed; But
let the water amply flow To cool the grapes' intemperate glow; And while the
temperate bowl we wreathe In concert let our voices breathe, Beguiling every
hour along ' With harmony of soul and song. —Tom Moore. Though the night must pass And there comes, alas, A world of woe in the morning, Then fill up your glasses,— the man's a dig
Who cares a fig If his head is big,— So what care we so long as we drink till the — Carolus Ager. dawning I " Here's to lieing, stealing, swearing, drinking! If you must lie, lie for a
pretty woman. If you must steal, steal away from bad company. If you must swear,
swear by your friends and they will swear by you; and If you must drink, drink with me!" I drink to the general joy of the whole table! — Shakespeare. 71
<^oot»~feilotosi)tp I do confess, in many a sigh, My lips have breathed you many a lie; And who,
with such delights in view, Would lose them, for a lie or two ? —Tom Moore. "Here's to thee and thy folks! May they love me and my folks As much as me
and my folks Love thee and thy folks; For there never were folks, Since folks
were folks, That loved folks As well as me and my folks Love thee and thy
folks." In all thy humors, whether grave or mellow, Thou 'rt a touchy, testy,
pleasant fellow; Hast so much wit and mirth and spleen about thee, There is no
living with thee, nor without thee. —Addison. " Here's rest for the weary,— In peace rest his soul; Good luck to the
wanderer Who's lost the keyhole!" Drink down all unkindness. c -----SHAKESPEARE. 72
Here's to luck, and hoping God will take a likin' tO US .
— Cowboy, Dakota. 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 1 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! — Byron. And do as adversaries do in law,— Strive mightily, but eat and drink as friends! — Shakespeare. Come, old fellow, drink down to your peg, But do not drink any further, I
beg! — Longfellow. Now, one other health: — To our grand patron called Good-fellowship, Whose
livery all our people hereabout are clad in! — Dekkar and Ford. 73
*#? <jlooUsfelUtos!)ip Whilst we together jovial sit, Careless and crowned with mirth and wit, We'll
think of all the friends we know, And drink to all worth drinking to! — Charles Cotton. Joy, gentle friends! Joy and fresh days of love accompany your hearts!
-Shakespeare. We'll drink to the friends who wish us well, So fill to the brim and toast
'em; And if there be those who wish us ill,— Why, now is the time to roast 'em! — Grace Luce Irwin. " Fill to him, to the brim! Round the table let it roll. The divine says that wine Cheers the body and the soul." 74
W Coasts to States California. How she sits like a queen beside the beautiful sunset sea / How grand her
place, how glorious her destiny; ribbed round by solemn, guardian mountains, the
pines are her everlasting sentinels; strange, beautiful flowers interwoven make
her diadem; her scepter is virgin gold, her canopy a cloudless sky: an empire
complete in herself! Were she, in a moment, rent from the continent and made an
island of the sea, still everything to make a nation great would be found,
either developed, or a living germ in her sustaining breast. How proud she sits,
her Golden Gate swung backward for the worlds great ships to enter; her mighty
land-locked bay, at rest, an anchorage where the whole worlds shifis might ride!
That bay, beautiful at first, and now with a glory a thousand times enhanced by
that city that came, at the touch of Midas, and unfolded its glittering splendor
on the still bays sandy shore ! — From the old Pah-Utah (a paper published in Nevada many years ago). 75
W Coasts to States To California. Where Earth is here so kind that just tickle her' with a hoe and she laughs
with a harvest! —Jarrod. To Kentucky. " Kentucky, O Kentucky! I love thy classic shades, Where flit the fairy figures of dark-eyed Southern maids, Where the mocking-birds are singing, mid flowers newly born, Where the corn is full of kernels and the Colonels full of corn!" To New England. Where Hubbard squash and huckleberries grow to powerful size, And everything is orthodox, from preachers down t0Pies! _____ -Eugene Field. To Vermont. "What State can beat her men, women, maple-sugar and horses ? The first are
strong, the last are fleet, The second and third are exceedingly sweet, And all
are uncommonly hard to beat!" 76
The Sunny Southern States. There's Virginia and Georgia and all the rest Of those sunny Southern parts; There's something fine, in their bloom and
clime, That cheers our Northern hearts. So a bumper fill to the genial group, , And we'll drink a health to their souls; And whenever our steps do
southward stray, May we halt at their julep bowls! _____ —A. I. W. To Rhode Island. There's Minnesota's Gopher, And Texas' Lonely Star, And California's Golden Bear, All famed both near and far; But 'tis not to these I pledge, Though all are good, I trow,— I toast old Roger Williams' Farm,— It's called Rhode Island now! 1 _____
—A. I. W. To Illinois. Here's a health to the boys, Men, maidens and matrons of fair Illinois, And
the rainbow of friendship that arches its span, From the green of the sea to the
blue Michigan! — Oliver Wendell Holmes. 77
Coasts to states To Pennsylvania. In Union, a State second only to the State of matrimony. Land of the many
rivers—of the stately Susquehanna, the blue Juniata, the graceful Schuylkill,
the historic Delaware, and the Monon-gahela and Alleghany, wedded to the Ohio;
land of sylvan beauty, of mineral wealth, of the lordly Coal Baron and the
gentle Quaker. Rich in agricultural products, rich in commercial influence, rich
in mountain scenery, but richer still in the possession of a bell consecrated
and anointed by the hand of Liberty,—the bell which rang forth "the sweetest
story ever told!" _JoHN HuNT> To the West. Here's to the West! — that ever hears The thunder of an uncurbed sea Hymning
its song of Liberty. Here's to the West!—that knows the thoughts Of stately pine and silent peak, That bend and brood, but never speak. Here's to the West!—that reads the stars And knows God's holy promise when
Time strikes for us the hour. Amen! — Howard V. Sutherland. 78
Coasts to States To San Francisco. Our city, Once, oh, so fast, Now quite good caste,— A pity! —Harriet Levy. May the winds waft the wealth of all nations to thee, And thy dividends flow
like the waves of the sea! — Oliver Wendell Holmes. America and England ! May they never have any division but the Atlantic
between them! — Dickens. 79
*& Coasts to Rulers "To the President—God bless him!" We like the man, we like the strong, generous man,—what I may call the real,
human man! — Lord Beresford's Toast to President Roosevelt. "May he always merit the esteem and affection of a people—ever ready to
bestow gratitude on those who deserve it." 'Tis an office of great work, and you an officer fit for the place. ______ -Shakespeare. To a Sovereign. 'Ere's to the 'ealth o' your Royal 'Ighness, hand may the skin o' ha
gooseberry be big enough for han humbrella to cover hup hall your henemies! —
Caddy's Toast in "Erminie." " To the rulers of every land! God bless and guide them ever!" 80
To Columbia. Columbia, Columbia, to glory arise, The queen of the world and child of the
skies —Timothy Dwight. " The poets sing of sunny France, Fair olive-ladened Spain, The Grecian Isles—Italia's smiles, And India's torrid plain, Of Egypt, countless ages old— Dark Afric's palms and dates, Let me acclaim the land I name, My own United States." America—half-brother of the world!—with something good and bad of every land. — Philip Bayley. "America forever! The land, boys, we live in!" " Here's to our native land! May we live and die in it." " May the joys of our country be as pure as its air of freedom, and its
virtues be as firm as its mountains." 81
" May there be no North, no South, no East no West, but only one broad,
beautiful land!" May the British Lion have his talons eradicated by the noble bill of the
American Eagle, and be taught to play upon the Irish Harp and the Scotch Fiddle
that music which is breathed by every empty shell that lies upon the shores of
green Columbia. — Dickens. Let Independence be our boast, Ever mindful what it cost; Ever grateful for
the prize, Let its altar reach the skies. ----J. HoPKINSON. One flag, one land, one heart, one hand, one nation evermore!
_0liver Wendell Holmes. Our country! In her intercourse with foreign nations, may she always be in
the right—but our country, right or wrong. _sTEPHEN Decatur. It is my living sentiment, and by the blessing of God it shall be my dying
sentiment,— Independence now and Independence forever! —Daniel Webster. 82
To Our National Birds. "The American Eagle and the Thanksgiving Turkey: May one give us peace in all
our States, And the other a piece for all our plates." To Great Britain. Britain's myriad voices call, Sons, be welded, each and all Into one imperial whole; One with Britain heart and soul, One fleet, one flag, one life, one throne- Britons, hold your own! __Tennyson. To England. Now, island Empress, wave thy crest on high, And bid the banner of thy Patron
flow, Gallant St. George, the flower of Chivalry, For thou hast faced like him a
dragon foe, And rescued innocence from overthrow, And trampled down like him, tyrannic might, And to the gazing world mayst
proudly show The chosen emblem of thy sainted knight, Who quell'd devouring pride, and vindicated right! — Sir Walter. Scott. 83
Coasts to JUttons To Scotland. Wherever I wander, wherever I rove, The hills of the Highlands forever I
love! — Burns. We toast ye, the nicht, the hill and the heather, The lad o' the bonnet, the
plaid and the feather, The land o' the mountain, the stream and the river, The
land o' our ancestors, Scotland forever! — G. W. McLaren. O Scotia! my dear, my native soil! For whom my warmest wish to heaven is sent! Long may thy hardy sons of rustic
toil Be blest with health, and peace, and sweet content. — Burns. To Ireland. Wert thou all that I wish thee: Great, glorious and free, First flower of the
earth, And first gem of the sea! — Tom Moore. " Here's to the land of the Shamrock so green, Here's to each lad and his
darling colleen, Here's to the ones we love dearest and most— And may God save
old Ireland! That's an Irishman's toast." 84
To Russia. Fires of the North, in eternal communion, Blend your broad flashes with evening's bright star! God bless the Empire
that loves the Great Union; Strength to her people! Long life to the Czar! —
Oliver Wendell Holmes. Our country, our whole country, and nothing but our country !
-Daniel Webster. To the English-speaking Races. The founders of commonwealths, pioneers of progress, stubborn defenders of
liberty—may they ever work together for the world's welfare! — George W. Curtis. 85
^ Coasts to (Bvlx ;flag Flag of the heroes who left us their glory, Borne through their battle-field's thunder and flame, Blazoned in song and
illumined in story, Wave o'er us all who inherit their fame! — Oliver Wendell Holmes. The union of lakes, the union of lands, The union of states none can sever; The union of hearts, the union of hands, And the flag of our Union forever! —J. P. Morris. A song for our banner! the watchword recall Which gave the Republic her
station: — " United we stand, divided we fall! " It made and preserves us a Nation. —J. P. Morris. May tne rose of England fairer blow, May Scotia's thistle taller grow; May the harp of Erin sweeter play, While the Stars and Stripes shall hold their sway! Then hail the banner of the free, The starry flower of liberty! — Oliver Wendell Holmes. 86
As memory turns the pages And recalls the glorious past, With its heroes and its sages And the luster that they cast, We will drink to grand " Old Glory " In the wine of other days, And recount the wondrous story, The songs of honest praise. — Four. Track News. Flag of the free-heart's hope and home, By angel hands to valor given; Thy stars have lit the welkin dome, And all thy hues were born in heaven! —Joseph Rodman Drake. One great modern Republic—the home of a new cosmopolitan race! May those who
seek the blessings of its free institutions and the protection of its Flag
remember the obligations they impose! —U. S. Grant. L 87
Both great in courage, conduct and in fame, Yet neither envious of the
other's praise; Their duty, faith and interest, too, the same, Like mighty partners equally
they raise! —Dryden. The wine-cup, the wine-cup bring hither,— A toast! glasses full to the brim ! May the wreath they have worn never
wither, Nor the stars of their glory grow dim ; May our soldiers and sailors ne'er
sever, United 'neath colors so true; Here's to the Army and Navy forever! Three cheers for the red, white and blue ! " Success to our army, success to our fleet; May our foes be compelled to bow
down at our feet!" " Here's to the Army and Navy! May they never want—and never be wanted To Three Great Commanders. " May we always be under the orders of General Peace, General Plenty and
General Prosperity!" 88
"Here's to our brave soldiers, ever victorious! May they in time of peace
always find shelter in a loving heart!" Stand to your glasses steady, And drink to your comrade's eyes; Here's a cup to the dead already, And hurrah for the next that dies!" Honor and reverence, and the good repute That follows faithful service as its
fruit, Be unto him whom, living, we salute. — Longfellow. Under the sod and the dew, Waiting the judgment day; Love and tears for the blue, Tears and love for the gray. — Francis M. Finch. And now I have liv'd—I know not how long, And still I can join in a cup or a song; But whilst with both hands I can hold the glass steady, Here's to thee, my hero, my sodger laddie! — Burns. 89
^^ Coasts to armpanti Jlafcp " Their arms our sure defense, Our arms, their recompense. Fall in!" To the Navy. Here's to the ships of our Navy, Here's to the ladies of our land; May the first be ever well rigged And the latter ever well manned! —Algernon S. Sullivan. " May it ever sail on a sea of Glory, be wafted by the winds of Prosperity,
be guided by the compass of Justice, and anchor in the harbor of Victory!" Here's to the Cause, let who will get the glory! Here's to the Cause, and a
fig for the story! The braggarts may tell it, who serve but for fame; There'll
be more than enough that will die for the Name! And though, in some eddy, our vessels, unsteady, Be stranded and
wrecked, ere the victory's won, Let the current sweep by us! O death! come and try us! What if laggards win praise, if the Cause shall © * — Gelett Burgess. 90
To An Admiral. Now smiling friends and shipmates all, Since half our battle's won, A broadside for our Admiral! Load every crystal gun! Stand ready till I give the word,— You won't have time to tire,— And when that glorious name is heard, Then hip! hurrah! and fire! Now, then, the broadside! Cheer on cheer To greet him safe on shore! Health, peace, and many a bloodless year To fight his battles o'er! — Oliver Wendell Holmes. "Our Navy! May it always be as anxious to preserve peace as to uphold the
honor of the flag in war!" 9*
Coasts to ti)e arts To Painting and Poetry. Here's to painting, for "painting is silent poetry"; And here's to poetry,
for "poetry is painting with the gift of speech"!
-Simonides. Here's to poetry, the eldest sister of all arts, and parent of most!
____ _ CoNGREVE. Seraphs share with thee knowledge, but Art, O Man, is thine alone! -Schiller. Art is an absolute mistress; she will not be coquetted with or slighted; she
requires the most entire self-devotion, and she repays with grand triumphs.
— Charlotte Cushman. The soul of music slumbers in the shell, Till waked and kindled by the
master's spell; And feeling hearts — touch them but rightly — pour A thousand melodies unheard before. — Rogers. All the many sounds of nature borrowed sweetness from his singing.
T o o — Longfellow. 92
Music the fiercest grief can charm, And Fate's severest rage disarm; Music can soften pain to ease, And make despair and madness please; Our joys below it can improve, And antedate the bliss above! __PopE " Here's to you, Richard Wagner, With your horns and your bassoons; What a hit you'd made in music Had you
only tackled tunes!" Music, thou queen of heaven, care-charming spell, Thou strik'st a silence
into hell; Thou that tam'st tigers and fierce storms that rise, With thy
soul-melting lullabies! — Herrick. Music! oh, how faint, how weak Language fades before thy spell! Why should Language ever speak When thou canst breathe her soul so well ? —Tom Moore. Of all the arts beneath the heaven That man has found or God has given, None
draws the soul so sweet away As music's melting, mystic lay. — James Hogg. 93
Coasts to tijc arts ^^ Music, that gentler on the spirit lies Than tired eyelids upon tired eyes; Music, that brings sweet sleep Down from the blissful skies! — Tennyson. Let no saucy fiddler presume to intrude Unless he is sent for to vary our
bliss; With mirth, wit and dancing and singing conclude To regale every sense with
delight in excess. — Ben Jonson. Benefits of Art-Study: gifts of the soul alone defy decay! -Louise Benson. 94
W anniversaries ^ We kiss the cup that in love Tells of saddest parting moment near; We kiss
the cup and bid God-speed To those we hold in heart most dear. For the hand of
Time has the lass and the man. And leads them away on his well-known plan, To
freshen their lives in the Land of Love With the dew of Hope and the coo of
dove, — Drink, Time, thou good old man ! Join in the cup, the love-filled cup Of those who sit in circle here; Join in
the cup, and bid it brim With all in Life that most holds cheer; Thy hand, old
Time, has the lass and the man, They have chosen well thy well-known plan To
lead them away to the Land of Love. Guard them with every shield from above,—
Drink, Time, thou good old man ! — Charles McIlvaine. 95
^H^ a tin (to e rsa r t e s Here's to the happy man:—All the world loves ______ —Emerson. Ye met, your souls seemed all in one, Like tapers that commingling shone; Thy
heart was warm enough for both, And—hers in truth was nothing loth. —Tom Moore. " May those who enter the rosy paths of matrimony never meet with thorns." " Here's to the bride and mother-in-law, Here's to the groom and
father-in-law, Here's to the sister and brother-in-law, Here's to friends and
friends-in-law, May none of them need an attorney-at-law! Love is the only good in the world. Henceforth be loved as heart can love, or
brain devise, or hand approve. _ R(JBERT Browning. t: 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." 96
"The greatest blessing Heaven can send—a good wife." ____ " There was never a daughter of Eve but once, ere the tale of her years be done, Shall know the scent of the Eden Rose, but
once beneath the sun! Though the years may bring her joy or pain, fame, sorrow or sacrifice — The hour that brought her the scent of the Rose she lived it in Paradise!" Here's to matrimony—the high sea for which no compass has yet been invented. — H. Heine. Thou hast no faults, or I no faults can spy, Thou art all beauty, or all
blindness I. ----CODRINGTON. Peace be around thee, wherever thou rovest, May life be for thee one summer's
day; And all that thou wish est, and all that thou lovest, Come smiling around thy
sunny way. —Tom Moore. " May all single men be married and all married men be happy." 97
& tt n t to e r s a r t e s "To marriage: The happy state which resembles a pair of shears; so joined
that they, cannot be separated; often moving in opposite directions, yet always
punishing any one who comes between them." ____ In life's delight, in death's dismay, In storm and sunshine, night and day,
In health, in sickness, in decay, Here and hereafter I am thine. ___^ — Longfellow. Fill high the cup with liquid flame, And speak my Hebiodora's name; Repeat
its magic o'er and o'er, And let the sound my lips adore Live in the breeze,
till every tone, And word and breath speaks her alone. —Tom Moore. "To the have-beens—the are-nows—and the may-bes." There swims no goose so gray, but soon or late She finds some honest gander
for her mate. ______ — Pope. When I said I should die a bachelor, I did not think I should live till I
were married. — Shakespeare. 98
Men dying make their will — but wives Escape a work so sad; Why should they make what all their lives The gentle dames have had! —J. G. Saxe.
^ To the Wife. Time still, as he flies, brings increase to her truth, And gives to her mind
what he steals from her ' y°uth' _____ -Tom Moore. Here's to the happy groom, who came, saw—and won! Here's to the blushing bride who surrendered to — N. St. G. love's fierce onslaught! I asked a maiden for her hand,— She answered me in accents bland, 'Go to Pa-pa.' And when I learned that he was dead, And of the life that he
had led, I knew the meaning when she said, 4Go to Pa-pa!'" " Maids and bachelors married, and soon so, Wives and husbands happy, and
long so!" 99
&nn tfce r s ar t es You can multiply all the relations of life, Have more than one sister or
brother, In the course of events have more than one wife, But you never can have but
one mother." Bear through sorrow, wrong and ruth, In thy heart the dew of youth, On thy
lips the smile of truth ! May thy smile like sunshine dart Into many a sunless
heart! ______ — Longfellow. The sweetest thing that ever grew beside a human door! tTr uwi ______ —Wordsworth. A gentle voice and ceaseless mirth Is what God gave thee at thy birth. _____ ----BODENSTEDT. Let him live to be a hundred! We want him on earth ' — Oliver Wendell Holmes. Birthday Toast. God grant you many and happy years, Till, when the last has crowned you, The dawn of endless days appears, And heaven is shining round you! — Oliver Wendell Holmes. ioo
Baby's Toast. Here's to me I — mamma's pet and pop's boast,-To my solos at night, which
they roast! Here's to my little pug nose And my ten curly toes! How's that for a little " Milk Toast"? — From Life. A Christmas Versicle. A little Boy of Heavenly Birth, But far from home today, Comes down to find his Ball, the Earth, That Sin has cast away. O comrades, let us one and all Join in to get Him back his Ball! — Rev. John B. Tabb. Old Yule Carol. " Welcome be thou, Heavenly King, Welcome born on this morning; Welcome for
whom we shall sing, Welcome Yule! " Welcome be ye that are here, Welcome all and make good cheer; Welcome all
another year! Welcome Yule!" IOI
anniversaries " Come, friends, let us fill our glasses, For a health to the lads and a
health to the lasses; Let none dare be grave,—life's a time to be gay, And with
drinking let's send the old year on its way! " Good friends, now the season is ripe for bright gladness; There's time for
all mirth, but there's no time for sadness; We've no use for sighs, 'tis of smiles we have need, So with
drinking we'll give the old year a l Godspeed !' " Then we'll drink to all the world below And all the Gods above; And with our deepest draught We'll pledge the little God of Love. Our souls will glow with fellowship, Our hearts warm with good cheer, And drinking we will welcome in The jolly young New Year!" I02
*£* itt t 0 c e 11 a n e a «=#? Til toast you a toast that is less than a toast, For a toast that is toasted
is more like a "roast "; A " roast" is a grilling, unleavened by wine, While a
"toast" is the vintage of good-will divine. " A plague upon Discord—to Unity
drink!" Is a toast, but sarcastic, perhaps you may think ? A grill, now, or
pledge—which appeals to you most? Ah, the frail Californians choice is a "roast"
! Then here's to the sunshine — that's all in the air! And here s to the loving
embrace—of the bear! Ambitions dissever, elation estranges,— Then here's to the
man who opposes all changes! Who loftily soars, pull him down, tho' a brother,
For how can we part when we love one another? —James D. Phelan. 103
To Happy Days Gone By. Happy the man, and happy he alone, who can call today his own — He, who, secure within, can say—"Tomorrow do thy worst, for I have lived today." Be foul or fair, be rain or shine, the
joys I have possessed In spite of fate, are mine! Not Heaven itself upon the past has power, And what has been,— has been, and I have had my hour. w«».«- _____ — Horace. Come! fill to joyous years This crystal clear and fine; — The morn may fill with tears What now we fill with wine. Forgetting, then, the morrow, Let us be glad today,— Regretting not the sorrow, Joy for its joy must pay; Lift high the gleaming glass, Love be its liquid gem, And the draught whose kiss shall pass Our lips—be pure with them! — Herman Scheffauer. "To knowledge, die wing wherewith we fly to Heaven!" 104
*& jE t » 11 11 a n e a *=#? Come, no more of grief and dying! Sing the time too swiftly flying! Just an hour, Youth's in flower, Give me roses to remember In the shadow of December. — Mrs. W. L. Woods. "To success, which can strike its roots deep only through soil enriched by
countless failures!" Laugh at all things, great and small things, Sick or well, at sea or shore; While we're quaffing, let's have laughing, Who the Devil cares for more! —Byron. 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! — Estelle Foreman. A health! And here let Time hold still his restless glass, That not another
golden sand may fall To measure how it passeth. — Dekkar and Ford. 105
«#? M t s c e U a n e a *& A toast to Dan Cupid, the great evil-doer, A merciless rogue—may his darts
ne'er grow fewer. — Estelle Foreman. To Patriotism. The whole wide ether is the eagle's way; The whole earth is a brave man's
fatherland. — Euripides. " Here's to the noblest, thankful hearts that take The bread of pain, the
bitter cup of woe, And dare to feel content, for old joy's sake, Among the thorns where roses used to blow." "To Home, the place where we are treated best, and grumble most." " Oh, do not despise the advice of the wise, Learn wisdom from those who are
older, And don't try for things that are out of your reach— An' that's what the
Girl told the Soldier!" "Here's to Hell! May we have as good a time there as we had getting there." 106
If I were king—ah, love, if I were king, What tributary nations would I bring
To stoop before your sceptre and to swear Allegiance to your lips and eyes and
hair! Beneath your feet what treasures I would fling: — The stars should be your
pearls upon a string, The world a ruby for your finger-ring, And you should have
the sun and moon to wear, If I were king. Let these wild dreams and wilder words take wing, Deep in the woods I hear a
shepherd sing, A simple ballad to a sylvan air, Of love that ever finds your
face more fair, I could not give you any godlier thing, If I were king. —J. H. McCarthy. When the black lettered list to the Gods was presented, The list that Fate
for each mortal intends, At a long list of ills a kind Goddess relented, And slipped in three blessings: Wife, Children and Friends.
_w> R> SpENCER> You can make fools of wits, we find each hour; But to make wits of fools is
past your power. —Dryden. 107
0L t 0 t e 11 a n e a *=#>> You may prate of the virtue of memory, Of the days and joys that are past, But here's to a good forgettery, And a friendship that cannot last! You may talk of a woman's constancy, And the love that can never die, But here's health to a woman's coquetry, And the pleasure of saying "
Good-bye"! —An Autograph Toast at the Wayside Inn. Instead of a song, boys, I'll give you a toast — Here's the memory of those
on the twelfth that we lost!— That we lost, did I say? nay, by heaven, that we found; For their fame it shall last while the world goes round. The next, in succession, I'll give you—The King! Whoe 'er would betray him,
on high may he swing! And here's the grand fabric, our free Constitution, As
built on the base of the great Revolution; And longer with politics not to be
cramm'd, Be Anarchy cursed, and be Tyranny damn'd, And who would to Liberty e'er
prove disloyal, May his son be a hangman, and he his first trial. — Robert Burns
(in honor of the anniversary of Rodney's great victory of the 12th of April, 1782). 108
^ ffl i$1111 a n e a *& " Knock and the world knocks with you, Boast and you boast alone; That bad old earth is a foe to mirth, And has a hammer as large as your own. Buy and the gang will answer, Sponge and they stand and sneer; The revelers joined to a joyous sound And shout for refusing beer. Be rich and the men will seek you, Poor—and they turn and go — You 're a mighty good fellow when you are mellow, And your pockets are lined with dough. " Be flush and your friends are many, Go broke and you lose them all; You 're a dandy old sport at $4.00 a quart, But not if you chance to fall. Praise and the cheers are many, Beef, and the world goes by, Be smooth and slick and the gang will stick As close as a hungry fly. There is always a crowd to help you A copious draught to drain, When the gang is gone you must bear alone The harrowing stroke of pain." Here's to the journey of Life — and may you never miss the train of kindly
thought. —A. I. W. 109
W JWistellanea ^ " Here's to love and unity, Dark corners and opportunity!" Here's to the friends we can trust, When the storms of adversity blaw; May they live in our song and be nearest
our hearts, Nor depart like the year that's awa\ — Old Scotch Song. Irish Toast. " Here is that ye may never die nor be kilt till ye break your bones over a
bushel o' glory." To Pipes and 'Baccy. Drink with me, lads, and fill your glasses high! Drink to Pan's pipe and its melodious strain That draws all cares forth with
one throbbing sigh, And empties every heart of every pain. Drink to our own dear pipes—of cob and clay, Upon whose stems we breathe in
dreamy need, And live, once more, a blessed bygone day, Drawing, like Pan, sweet harmony from the weed. — Louise Herrick Wall. no
"To the chef,— good friend, whose versant touch and artful hand have keened
my zest for gastronomic lore." ____ To a Club. While yet the night is fresh and young, With glow of early hours; While yet a thirst is on the tongue, And a bloom is on the flowers, Come fill your glass with wine that gleams As bright as stars above; And while the generous bumper streams We'll toast the club we love! —John McNaught. There's many a toast I'd like to say, If I could only think it; So fill your glass to Anything And thank the Lord, I '11 drink it! —Wallace Irwin. To Home. "A world of strife shut out, and a world of love shut in."
____ " May we have the wit to discover what is true and the fortitude to practice
what is good." in
tscellanea To Failure. Here's to the joker who can't take ajoke, Here's to the oaf who can't see
one; Here's to the smile that hides the bright tear, To the courage that cowards
oft lean on— Then let's drink to Failure, Whatever its guise, For beneath its dark color Success often lies. ----MlLLICENT COSGRAVE. Here's to the old general and the old coquette! May both continue to remember
their conquests and to forget their other engagements. — F. R. Wall. To One-and-Twenty. Oh! talk not to me of a name great in story, The days of
our youth are the days of our glory; And the myrtle and ivy of sweet
one-and-twenty Are worth all your laurels, though ever so plenty! — Byron. Here's a health in homely rhyme, To our oldest classmate, Father Time; May
our last survivor live to be As bald and as wise and as tough as he! — Oliver
Wendell Holmes. 112
jE t 0 c e 11 a n e a ^#* " Here's to old Omar Khayyam — I'm stuck on that beggar—I am! His women and wine are something divine For
his verses I don't care a damn!" To Home. "The father's kingdom; the child's paradise; the mother's world." Here's to tomorrow, that Father Confessor of days that makes possible the
sins of tonight. — Carolus Ager. To Law. Of Law there can be no less acknowledger than that her seat is in the bosom
of God — her voice the harmony of the world. All things in heaven and on earth
do her homage,— the very last as fully her care and the greatest as not exempt
from her power. _____ -Richard Hooker. To Gasteria, the tenth muse, who presides over the enjoyments of Taste.
_Brillat-SavariN. " God sends meat and the devil sends cooks." "3
i? JHtscellanea Serenely full, the epicure would say: Fate cannot harm me, I have dined
today. — Sidney Smith. Better beams without stars Than stars that don't shine; Better wine without jars Than jars without wine; Better gold without purse Than purse without gold; Better sense without verse Than rhym'd nonsense, I hold! ----BoDENSTEDT. Old English. In the olde time, When Beefe, Bread and Beere Was honest man's cheere, And
welcome and spare not; And John and his Joane Did live of their owne Full
merrily! — Cobbe's Prophecies, His Signs and Tokens— 1614. Whom no friend was giv'n on earth, He is, by heaven, no friendly greeting
worth! — Bodenstedt. 114
*4? ffl t s c e 11 a n e a ^ Sir, respect your dinner; idolize it, enjoy it properly. You will be many
hours in the week, many weeks in the year, and many years in your life the
happier if you do ! -Thackeray. As for that, pass the bottle and hang the expense; I've seen it observed by a
writer of sense That the labouring classes could scarce live a day If people
like us did n't eat, drink, and pay. So useful it is to have money, heigh-ho, So
useful it is to have money! One ought to be grateful, I quite apprehend, Having
dinner and supper and plenty to spend; And so, suppose now, while the things go
away, By way of a grace we all stand up and say, " How pleasant it is to have
money, heigh-ho, How pleasant it is to have money!" —A. H. Clough. To the Mince Pye — called King of Cates,— Sovereign of Cates, all hail! Nor
then refuse This cordial offering from an English Muse, Who pours the brandy in
libation free, And finds plum pudding realized in thee! — William Hone. " Here's to the whole world, for fear some fool will be sore because he's
left out! " "5
tscelianea Fair art thou, Tiflis, on Cyro's green shore! Fair art thy sons and thy daughters to me! Fount of my agony, fount of my glee, Home of my lov'd one, what need'st thou
be more? My cup is o'erflowing, I drink but to thee! ----BoDENSTEDT. To Youth. " Only possessed fully by those who have passed beyond it." Prepare for mirth, for mirth becomes a feast. — Pericles. To Law. " Fond of doctors, little health, Fond of lawyers, little wealth." May the work that you have Be the play that you love! —E. Geberding. 'A dinner, coffee and cigars, Of friends a half a score, Each favorite vintage in its turn,— What man could wish for more ?" 116
" 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 before,' Gad ! but their kisses were sweet!" My Treasure. Let those who never pay their score Drink pledges to the golden morrow, And others whom reflections bore Exalt
today in joy or sorrow ; I'd rather drink to joy I store, Which neither God nor man can borrow! Nothing can last Except the past. For those who live in future bliss, Each hour depletes their golden treasure; The sand-glass hints what he would
miss Who strives to hold a fleeting pleasure. Naught but the past is ours, and
this Each day becomes a richer treasure. Hand round the wine,— The past is mine! — Ednah Robinson. May all your pain be sham pain, And all your champagne real! " 117
tscellanea And whether we live or whether we die (For the end is past our knowing),
Here's two frank hearts and the open sky, Be a fair or an ill wind blowing! Here's luck! In the teeth of all winds blowing ! — Richard Hovey. " May we kiss whom we please And please whom we kiss." Here's to The bright black eye, the melting blue— I cannot choose between the
two! — Oliver Wendell Holmes. " The Lord gave teeth to men, that they might eat, And then, to use them on,
he gave us meat; But here's a health to that great man who took And brought the
two together—to the Cook!" Here's to A life with tranquil comfort blest, The young man's health, the rich man's
plenty, All earth can give that earth has best, And heaven at four-score years
and twenty! — Oliver Wendell Holmes. 118
A garland for the hero's crest, And twined by her he loves the best; To every lovely lady bright, What can I wish but faithful knight? To every faithful lover, too, What can I wish but lady true? — Sir Walter Scott. Let's drink to the future, " lighted for us with the radiant colors of hope
"! _JoHN FlSKE< " Not the laurel — but the race, Not the quarry—but the chase; Not the dice —
but the play May I, Lord, enjoy alway!" God grant us good, whether or not we pray, But e'en from praying souls keep
bad away." To Wealth. Gold! of all welcome blessings thou 'rt the best! For never had a mother's
smile for men, Nor son, nor father dear, such perfect charm As thou, and they
who hold thee for their guest. — Euripides. 119
^ Miscellanea ^ To Virtue. Virtue, to men thou bringest care and toil; Yet art thou life's best, fairest
spoil. —Aristotle. To Health. Health! Eldest, most august of all The blessed gods, on thee I call! Oh, let
me spend with thee the rest Of mortal life, securely blest!" To Life. Ah, lives of men! When prosperous they glitter Like a fair picture; when misfortune comes A wet sponge at one blow has blurred the painting. ----iEsCHYLUS. "Twin-brother of its deadly foe—and truest friend—Death!" ____ Though we eat little flesh and drink no wine, Yet let's be merry; we'll have
tea and toast; Custards for supper, and an endless host Of syllabubs and jellies
and mince pies, And other such ladylike luxuries. — Shelley. i 20
Here's to the Freshman, all verdant and gay, Here's to the Soph and his folly, Here's to the Senior, afraid of next May,
And here's to the Union, so jolly; Let the toast pass, Drink to the class,— Her
glory shall be our excuse for the glass. Here's to the class that is leader in all— Long may she prosper and thrive, boys! Then fill up your glasses and drink to
my call, The glory of old ninety-five, boys; Let the toast pass, Drink to the
class,— Her glory shall be our excuse for the glass. — Carolus Ager. Here's a turkey when you are hungry, Champagne when you are dry, A pretty girl, when you're lonely, And heaven when you die! " Fill a glass with golden wine, And the while your lips are wet, Set their perfume upon mine and forget Every kiss we take or give Leaves us less of life to live. — Henley. izi
tscellanea ^ Here's to the year that's awa', We'll drink it in strong and in sma', And
here's to the bonny young lassie in love While swift flew the year that's awa'." Let's live in haste ; use pleasures while we may: Could life return, 'twould
never lose a day. — Herrick. "Here's to the stein—*'Tis not so wide as a church door nor so deep as a
well, but 'twill serve!'" In his own home let each man stay, And freely live in his own way! But I of
love what I love will sing, Where ev'ry day new themes doth bring. And while
they rise where'er I gaze, What need have I to tire me, Seeking in midst of bygone days For matter to inspire me ? ----BODENSTEDT. " Some hae meat and canna' eat, And some wad eat who want it; But we hae meat and we can eat, So let the Lord
be thankit."
Know, ye sons of melancholy, To be young and wise is folly 1 S|» •»» **» *t*
•«• •»* While you scorn our names unspoken, Roses dead and follies broken, Oh, ye wise, We arise, Out of failures, dreams, disasters, We arise to be your masters! Mrs. W. L. Woods. I would applaud thee to the very echo That should applaud again. ■— Shakespeare. The Newspapers! Sir, they are the most villainous, licentious, abominable,
infernal—not that I ever read them — no, I make it a rule never to look into a
newspaper! —Sheridan. " Here's to Life's three blessings: Wife, children, and friends!" Let not fortune e'er thy mistress, Let not sorrow e'er thy maid be. — BoDENSTEDT. IZ3
ffi i & 1111 a ti e a ^ Enjoy the Spring of Love and Youth, To some good Angel leave the rest, The time will teach you soon enough There are no birds in the last year's nest. <— Herrick. Snatch gaily the joys which the moment shall bring, And away every care and
perplexity fling. — Horace. A mother-in-law has the name and repute Of whims and of temper and a love for dispute; She is roundly abused and maliciously slandered, An innocent victim, most unjustly bantered. This is all wrong, and defying objection, I hold she's a woman of heart and affection. So here's to the mother of our husband or wife— God bless her and give her good health and long life! Blest be those feasts, with simple plenty crown'd, Where all the ruddy family around Laugh at the jests or pranks, that never fail, Or sigh with pity at some mournful tale, Or press the bashful stranger to his food And learn the luxury of doing good! — Goldsmith. 124
Ship me somewhere east of Suez, Where the best is like the worst; Where there are n't no ten commandments, And a man can raise a thirst. — Kipling. I 've drunk sheer madness! Not with wine, But old fantastic tales!—I'll arm My heart in heedlessness divine, And dare the road nor dream of harm! — Meleager. " Blest health ! Yea, Beauty's year Breaks into spring for thee, for only thee! Without thee no man's life is
aught but cold and drear." May liberty meet wi' success ! May prudence protect her frae evil! May tyrants and tyranny tine in the mist, And wander their way to the devil. —Burns. Youth, that sweetest souvenir of Aphrodite throned in joy.
_pINDAR. I2C
3fa ^foreign Congues ^ Latin. Quisquis amat valeat, pereat qui nescit amare; Bis tanto pereat quisquis
amare vetat." * * * Sapias, vina liques, et spatio brevi Spem longam reseces. Dum loquimur fugerit invida iEtas: carpe diem quam minimum credula postero. — Horace. Gaudeamus igitur, juvenes dum sumus ; Post jucundam juventutem, post molestam senectutem Nos habebit humus. Vivat academia, vivant professores, Vivat membrum quodlibet, vivant membra quaelibet, Semper sint in flore. Vivant omnes virgines faciles, formosas! Vivant et mulieres, tenerse,
amabiles, Bonae laboriosae. Vivat et respublica et qui illam regit, Vivat nostra civitas, Maecenatum
caritas, Quae nos hie protegit." 126
***■ 3n foreign Congues *£* French. Tout pour les dames, Beaucoup pour mes amis Peu pour moi!" Heureux qui ne veut rien tenter! Heureux qui suit ce qu'il doit suivre!
Heureux qui ne vit que pour vivre, Qui ne chante que pour chanter. —Victor Hugo. 'A toi, peintre, le monde ! a toi, poete, 1 'ame! A tous deux le seigneur!" cAh ! Ah! verse encore, vidons 1 'amphore Qu 'un riot divin de ce vieux vin,
Calme la soif qui me devore, Le vin est un tresor divin." Aimer le vrai, le beau, chercher leur harmonie; Ecouter dans son coeur 1
'echo de son genie; Chanter, rire, pleurer, seul, sans but, au hasard, D 'un
sourire, d 'un mot, d 'un soupir, d 'un regard Faire un travail exquis, plein de
crainte et de charme, Faire une perle d 'une larme: Du poete ici-bas voila la
passion, Voila son bien, sa vie et son ambition. ----A. DE MUSSET. 127
3fn jforeign Cottgues Jouissons, jouissons de la douce journee, Et ne la troublons, pas cette heure
fortunee. —Joseph De"lorme. Enfant, si j'etais roi, je donnerais l'empire Et mon char, et mon sceptre, et mon peuple a genoux, Et mes flottes a qui la mer ne peut suffire, Pour un regard de vous i Si j'etais Dieu, la terre et l'air avec les ondes, Les anges, les demons
courbes devant ma loi, Et le profond chaos aux entrailles fecondes, L'eternite,
l'espace, et les cieux et les mondes, Pour un baiser de toi! —Victor Hugo. Les mots sont faits pour ce qu'on trouve aimable, Les regards seuls pour ce
qu'on voit charmant. —Bbranger. Le bonheur tient au savoir vivre: De l'abus naissent les degouts; Trop a la
fois nous enivre; II faut boire a petits coups. Amis, le bon vin que le notre! Et la sante quel bien pour tous! Pour menager
l'un et l'autre, II faut boire a petits coups. —-Beranger. 128
Italian. Non dalle coppe il vin: dagli occhi, amore Tu mi versa, gentil Ebe novella:
E, Ganimede a te, in umile favella Ripeterb baciando : eccoti il core ! — L. D. Ventura. Viva Bacco! Evviva Amore ! Bevo ed amo a tutte 1 'ore. Se la bimba dice: No !
Cheto, cheto allor mi sto ; Ma se poi dicesse: Si! Non mi muovo piii di li. Viva
dunque le bambine, Le vezzose civettine, Che se ridono al mio dire Pur
vorrebbero gioire; Ed un viva per voi pure Provocanti creature Che alle smanie,
lai e pianti, Sol contanti scintillanti Preferite, e con smorfiette II mio core,
a fette a fette, Vi spartite e sgranfiguate Si dall 'un ch 'all 'altro estate.
Bevo il vin . . . e faro poi Quel che alfin vorrete voi. ----RlCCARDO A. LuCCHESI. 129
^ 3fa jfowtgn Conguts Ed in festa baldanzosa Tra gli scherzi e tra le risa, Lasciam pur, lasciam
passare Lui che in numeri ed in misure Si ravvolge e si consuma, E quaggiu Tempo
si chiama: E bevendo e ribevendo I pensier mandiamo in bando. — Redi. Tete-a-tete Brindisi. Tocchiam le coppe, beviam, se vuoi, Purche annegui il mio cor negli occhi
tuoi! — L. D. Ventura. German. Wer nicht liebet Wein, Weib und Gesang, Der bleibet ein Narr sein Leben lang! — Martin Luther. Freude sprudelt in Pokalen; in der Traube gold'nem Blut Trinken Sanftmut Kannibalen, die Verzweiflung Heldenmut! — Briider, fliegt von euren Sitzen, wenn der voile R6 mer kreist, Lasst den Schaum zum Himmel spritzen : Dieses Glas dem guten Geist! _ Schiller. 130
^ fn ^foreign Ccmgues Der Kreislauf der Rebe. "Aus der Rebe in die Tonne, aus der Tonne in das Fass, Aus dem Fasse dann, o Wonne, in die Flasche und ins Glas! Aus dem Glase in die Kehle, aus der Kehle in den Schlund, Und als Blur, dann in die Seele, und als Wort dann in den Mund! Aus dem Worte etwas spater formt sich ein begeistert Lied, Das als Sang dann in den Aether mit der Menschen Jubel zieht. Und im nachsten Friihling wieder fallen diese Lieder fein Dann als Tau auf Reben nieder, und sie werden wieder Wein." Ehret die Frauen! Sie flechten und weben Himmlische Rosen ins irdische Leben. — Schiller. Eine Gesundheit auf die Gesundheiten. Weg, weg mit Wunschen, Reimen, Schwanken! Trinkt fleissig, aber trinket still! Wer wird an die Gesundheit denken, Wenn man die Glaser leeren will ? — Lessing. 131
*^ 3n foreign Conguts ^ Je weiter der Weg, den man wandern muss, Um so warmer zu sein pflegt ein
Liebesgruss, Ein Gruss zwischen Freunden und Briidern!" From the Chinese. With wine and flowers we chase the hours In one eternal spring! No moon, no light to cheer the night, Thyself that ray must bring. ----Psi SUNG-LING. From the Sanscrit. In climbing tendrils I discern thy form, In eyes of startled hind thy glances! And in the moon thy lovely face, In peacocks' plume thy shining tresses! The sportive frown upon thy brow is flowing waters' tiny ripples; But never in one place combined can I, alas! behold thy likeness. ____ -Kalidasa. Beside the lamp, the gleaming hearth In light of sun or moon or stars,
Without my dear one's lustrous eyes This world is wholly dark to me! — Bhartrihari. 132
*G? §L ' € n * o i A Grace After Drink. Oh, hear us, kindly Bacchus, Lord of good revelry, Whose bright elixir teacheth men What the immortals be— When next thy joyous satyrs Make revelry divine, And blend in early spring the sap 'That mellows into wine, Grant that they mix no malice, Nor sudden fray, nor strife, Nor black despond nor evil thought, Nor dull despair of life, But only wit and kindness, And laughter fair and strong, And sweet content and merriment That move the heart to song ! So, when the grapes are bursting Along thy favored hills, And through the frozen veins of men Thy golden summer thrills, 133
€ n \) o Grant, then, that we, thy servants, Shall drink in soberness, And hold thy godly gift too dear For barb'rous gross excess. And aye from every flagon The maiden draught be thine— A toast to merry Bacchus, Lord giver of the vine I — Will Irwin. *3+
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