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Here's to the maiden of bashful fifteen; Here's to the widow of fifty; Here's to the flaunting extravagant quean, And here's to the housewife that's thrifty.
Chorus
Let the toast pass,-- Drink to the lass, I'll warrant she'll prove an excuse for the glass.
Here's to the charmer whose dimples we prize; Now to the maid who has none, sir: Here's to the girl with a pair of blue eyes, And here's to the nymph with but one, sir.
Chorus
Let the toast pass,-- Drink to the lass, I'll warrant she'll prove an excuse for the glass.
Here's to the maid with a bosom of snow; Now to her that's as brown as a berry: Here's to the wife with her face full of woe, And now to the damsel that's merry.
Chorus
Let the toast pass,-- Drink to the lass, I'll warrant she'll prove an excuse for the glass.
For let 'em be clumsy, or let 'em be slim, Young or ancient, I care not a feather; So fill a pint bumper quite up to the brim, And let us e'en toast them together.
Chorus
Let the toast pass,-- Drink to the lass, I'll warrant she'll prove an excuse for the glass.
Richard Brinsley Sheridan
Read poems about / on: girl, snow, together
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