That, while he spoke of Angels that dwelt in the Skies,
I was gazing with rapture at one upon Earth.
A TOAST
Here's a health to thee, Tom: a bright bumper we drain
To the friends that our bosoms hold dear,
As the bottle goes round, and again and again
We whisper, "We wish he were here."
Here's a health to thee, Tom: may the mists of this earth
Never shadow the light of that soul