To every branch of this great tree,
That shelters you and shelters me,
Let's quaff a toast, and with a song,
Drink to the King--may he live long.
With quip and jest, with speech and tale,
In fellowship let us regale.
Here's to our chief! here's to each soul!
Toast with a will, fill high the bowl!
To comrades present, absent friends,
Drink while the curling smoke ascends;
And then one crowning toast we'll raise
To woman and her gentle ways.
O! lovely ladies, you who wait
For tardy husbands homing late;
I crave you, by your fair renown,
Forgive all these who here sit down.
So ends the feast, and if I heard
The twitter of the morning bird,
What matter, we have known good cheer--
Good-bye, old friends, until next year.