Poems :: :: University of Virginia Library

Let doctors prattle what they will;—
I laugh at what they say;—
Muse, 'tis our wedding day;
We will be merry; so a bumper fill.
Yes! let the glass
Now freely pass;
We have had ills enough, now is our time for play.

Here's to the bards of earliest times,
And may the laurel bough
Still flourish on their brow,
As still they lift our souls with loftiest rhymes.
So let the glass
Now freely pass;
Still be their mem'ries green as thousand years ago.

Here's to the bard of modern days,
May duns ne'er vex his door,
As they have bards' before;
Health to his Love, and lucky be his lays!
So let the glass
Now freely pass;
May he have wit at will, of money too good store!

Here's to the bards of years to come,
And when they feel within
The tuneful fit begin,
And Wit grow warm, may Prudence not leave home!
So let the glass,
Now freely pass,
Lest Poverty should come, that beldame lank and thin.

Here's to the muses, more than nine,
For know, that Ladies fair
The best of muses are,
And can do more, than e'en the god of wine.
So let the glass
Now freely pass,
Love is the poet's friend, and love is most divine.

Here's to all patrons good and kind,
I mean not every sinner,
Who gives the bard a dinner,
And who with dirty work would clog his mind.
But let the glass
Now freely pass,
To him, who loves the Muse, and can by goodness bind.

Here's to the souls, that I love most,
I mean to each bookseller,
Who is a right good fellow,
Who need not tremble at an author's ghost;
So lift the glass
And let it pass,
Muse, I could drink their healths, till I grew warm and mellow.

But we must raise us to the nonce:
Shall I be now the tool
Of old Sir William's school?
No—no—we surely may get drunk for once.
So move the glass
And let it pass:
Who on their wedding-day would ever drink by rule?

Thus, Muse, with us the matter stands;—
Tho' we are wedded,
And we have bedded,
Yet never priest did join the holy bands.
But move the glass
And let it pass;—
So may our freaks and loves still live in fairy lands!