 | The poetical works of Samuel Woodworth |  |
FILL A BUMPER, LET IT PASS.
Fill a bumper, let it pass,This shall be our parting glass;
When again we thus convene,
Equal joy shall crown the scene,
Wine and music, mirth and wit,
Every eye with pleasure lit;
Parting is not painful, when
We but part to meet again.
| The poetical works of Samuel Woodworth | |