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230 THE GOLDEN TREASURY OF |
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He to wine was civil; Had he Inishowen,
He'd pitch wine to the devil — Whiskey, drink divine, etc.
Bright as beauty's eye,
When no sorrow veils it : Sweet as beauty's sigh,
When young love inhales it: Come, then, to my lips —
Come, thou rich in blisses ! Every drop I sip
Seems a shower of kisses — Whiskey, drink divine, etc.
Could my feeble lays
Half thy virtues number, A whole grove of bays
Should my brows encumber. Be his name adored,
Who summoned up thy merits In one little word,
When we call thee spirits — Whiskey, drink divine, etc.
Send it gayly round —
Life would be no pleasure, If we had not found
This enchanting treasure: And when tyrant death's
Arrow shall transfix ye, Let your latest breaths
Be whiskey ! whiskey! whiskey! Whiskey, drink divine, etc. |
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