And he that will this health deny, Down among the dead men let him lie.

Here's to the red of it, There's not a thread of it, No, not a shred of it, In all the spread of it, From foot to head, Not heroes bled for it, Faced steel and lead for it, Precious blood shed for it, Bathing in red.

A glass is good, and 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.

A health to the nut-brown lass, With the hazel eyes: let it pass. . . . . As much to the lively grey 'Tis as good i' th' night as day: . . . . She's a savour to the glass, And excuse to make it pass.

Here's to France, the moon whose magic rays move the tides of the world.

Here's to our beloved George Washington, the Joshua of America, who commanded the sun and the moon to sand still--and they obeyed.