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IRISH MELODIES. |
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DRINK TO HER.
Drink to her who long
Hath wak'd the poet's sigh, The girl who gave to song
What gold could never buy. Oh! woman's heart was made
For minstrel hands alone; By other fingers play'd,
It yields not half the tone. Then here's to her who long
Hath wak'd the poet's sigh, The girl who gave to song
What gold could never buy.
At Beauty's door of glass
When Wealth and Wit once stood, They ask'd her, " which might pass ? "
She answer'd, " he, who could." With golden key Wealth thought
To pass — but't would not do : While Wit a diamond brought,
Which cut his bright way through. So here's to her who long
Hath wak'd the poet's sigh, The girl who gave to song
What gold could never buy.
The love that seeks a home Where wealth or grandeur shines,
Is like the gloomy gnome
That dwells in dark gold mines. |
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