The American Songster, Song

Well met, jolly fellows, well met; By this bowel you're all welcome, I swear; See where on the table 'tis set, And design'd for the grave of our care. From this social convention, 'Twill drive all contention, Save only who longest can drink; Then fill up your glasses And drink to your lasses, The head ach take him that shall shrink.

Do but look at this glass! here boys, hand it around: Why it sparkles like Phillis's eyes; But 'tis better by far, boys; for when her eyes wound, This balm to the wound will supply; Then a fig for this thinking: Fill, fill, and be drinking: Let us drown all our cares and our sorrows: Come, the toast, boys, the toast! There's no time to be lost, For our cares will return with to-morrow.