A Drinking Song
By Eugene Field
Come, brothers, share the fellowship We celebrate to-night; There's grace of song on every lip And every heart is light! But first, before our mentor chimes The hour of jubilee, Let's drink a health to good old times, And good times yet to be! Clink, clink, clink! Merrily let us drink! There's store of wealth And more of health In every glass, we think. Clink, clink, clink! To fellowship we drink! And from the bowl No genial soul In such an hour can shrink. And you, oh, friends from west and east And other foreign parts, Come share the rapture of our feast, The love of loyal hearts; And in the wassail that suspends All matters burthensome, We'll drink a health to good old friends And good friends yet to come. Clink, clink, clink! To fellowship we drink! And from the bowl No genial soul In such an hour will shrink. Clink, clink, clink! Merrily let us drink! There's fellowship In every sip Of friendship's brew, we think.
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"Come, brothers, share the fellowship..."
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