THE TOAST

A toast to thee, o dear old year,

While the last moments fly,

A toast to thy sweet memory —

We'll lift the glasses high,

And bid to thee a fond farewell

As thou art passing by!

A toast to those who reaped success

In this good year of grace;

A toast to every one of them —

Come! Give the victors place!

Come, wish them well with right good will —

The winners in the race!

And one toast more! To those who failed

Wherever they may be;—

With faces white they fought the fight,

But missed the victory;

So here's to them — the ones who strove —

On land and on the sea!

Fair dreams to thee, o grey old year,

Thy working time is done,

And gone for thee the silver moon,

And golden noon-day sun;

Yet sad old year — and glad old year —

We'll know no better one.