For he al—sted—dead—ready is done brown;
But to the gentleman before me there
(Is there a pair?),
Filling, with so much dignity, his chair:—
A toast, the very birthright of a nation,
Where virtue is the attribute of station;
A toast, were I the swi—swe—swain that delves—
Or peer, or plebs, I'd drink while I'd a hand
To hold a glass in—or a leg to stand—
"Our noble selves."