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.

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Richard Brinsley Sheridan