 | Here be blue and white violets from the garden wherein grew meadowsweet |  |
A DRINKING SONG.
There's an inch or so's canary
In the bottom of the cup,
So, my comrades, pass it round to me again!
I can quaff till Dawn is coming
With her rosy cheeks, and humming
As she flits across the vineyards in the plain.
Drink, fine fellows!
Rare wine mellows
Pith
And sinew,
Brawn
And thews!
Nought of foreign's
In your goblets
Save Aurora's slender dews!
In the bottom of the cup,
So, my comrades, pass it round to me again!
I can quaff till Dawn is coming
With her rosy cheeks, and humming
As she flits across the vineyards in the plain.
Drink, fine fellows!
Rare wine mellows
Pith
And sinew,
Brawn
And thews!
Nought of foreign's
In your goblets
Save Aurora's slender dews!
There's a health or so for pledging
Ere the channel of the cup
Runs as dry as thrifty streamlets in the heat.
Let us pray the summer vintage
To be prodigal of mintage
That shall jingle in our hearts and heads and feet!
Drink, fine fellows!
Rare wine mellows
Pith
And sinew,
Brawn
And thews!
Nought of foreign's
On your whiskers
Save Aurora's slender dews!
Ere the channel of the cup
Runs as dry as thrifty streamlets in the heat.
Let us pray the summer vintage
To be prodigal of mintage
That shall jingle in our hearts and heads and feet!
Drink, fine fellows!
Rare wine mellows
Pith
And sinew,
Brawn
And thews!
Nought of foreign's
On your whiskers
Save Aurora's slender dews!
| Here be blue and white violets from the garden wherein grew meadowsweet | |