SOME folk pursue a churlish plan,
   And other people day by day shun;
I’m one who loves my fellow-man
   Without regard to creed or station.
All men I treat in friendly style,
   But him I worship as a brother,
Who with a brilliant, friendly smile,
   Says “Drink it up and have another!”

And you are one of these, Yorke-D.
   What comfortable words you’ve spoken;
Ne’er shall the bond ’twixt you and me,
   So far as I’m concerned, be broken.
The finest phrase of bard or sage
   Has never equalled, to my thinking,
That noblest product of our age,
   That single speech of yours, “Keep drinking.”

Life now becomes a thing of cheer;
   No cloud appears on our horizon;
Go, tap the cask of frothing beer,
   Produce what Yankees call “the pi’sen”:
What though our habits cause surprise,
   Or manners most acute suspicion,
We’re doing all that in us lies
   To keep our health in good condition.