Ring from the rim of the glass, boys,
Ripples of tinkling tones;
Drink to the heyday of youth, boys,
Mindless of after-moans.
Over the rim of the glass, boys,
Gaze into eyes that are bright.
Drink with each sip of the wine, boys,
Passionate gleams of delight.
Sing to the rim of the glass, boys,
Chorus wherever we roam.
Drink in its sparkling-eyed depths, boys,
A love as light as its foam.
Kiss the rim of the glass, boys,
Blind to its siren-gleam.
Drink in its shading depths, boys,
The wav'ring forms of a dream.
Then ring from the rim of the glass, boys,
Ripples of tinkling tones.
Drink to the heyday of youth, boys,
Mindless of after-moans.
JOHN CLINTON ANTHONY. Brown Magazine.
~Comforting Reflections of a Nonentity.~
I cannot boast of learning deep,
Nor can I much to art aspire;
My poetry loses me no sleep,
Nor oratory's burning fire.
I do not row upon the crew,
Nor on th'eleven glory win;
I am not of the chosen few
Who sing or play the mandolin.
I am not any social star,
But then—within my certain knowledge,
Like me, unknown to fame, there are
Some fifteen hundred men in college.