A Health To Dear Woman

John Pierpont

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A health to dear woman! she bids us untwine
From the cup it encircles the fast-clinging vine:
But her cheek in its crystal with pleasure will glow,
And mirror its bloom in the bright wave below.

A health to dear woman! the days are no more
When she watched for her lord till the revel was o'er,
And smoothed the white pillow, and blushed when he came,
As she pressed her cold lips on his forehead of flame.

Alas for the loved one! too spotless and fair,
The joys of his banquet to chasten and share;
Her eye lost its light that his goblet might shine,
And the rose of her cheek was dissolved in his wine.

Joy smiles in the fountain, health flows in the rills,
As their ribands of silver unwind from the hills;
They breathe not the mist of the bacchanal's dream,
But the lilies of innocence float on the stream.

Then a health and a welcome to woman once more!
She brings us a passport that laughs at our door;
It is written on crimson--its letters are pearls--
It is countersigned Nature--so, room for the Girls!

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