THE And hopes to find some comfort here, To rise above this earthly mass, The only way's to drink his glass. But, still, on this uncertain stage, Where hopes and fears the soul engage, In spite of all the mirth I've heard, This is the glass I always feared, With you, whom reason taught to think, I haste to take the parting glass. The luckless wight, that still delays Old age steps up, and-breaks the glass! The nymph, who boasts no borrowed charms, Whose sprightly wit my fancy warms; What though she tends this country inn, And mixes wine, and deals out gin? With such a kind, obliging lass, I sigh to take the parting glass. With him, who always talks of gain With those that drink before they dine, The man, whose friendship is sincere, It would require a heart of brass With him to take the parting glass. With him who quaffs his pot of ale, |