The Toast

A toast to thee, 0 dear old year,      While the last moments fly,     A toast to thy sweet memory -      We'll lift the glasses high,     And bid to thee a fond farewell      As thou art passing by!     A toast to those who reaped success      In this good year of grace;     A toast to every one of them -      Come! Give the victors place!     Come, wish them well with right good will -      The winners in the race!     And one toast more! To those who failed      Wherever they may be; -     With faces white they fought the fight,      But missed the victory;     So here's to them - the ones who strove -      On land and on the sea!     Fair dreams to thee, 0 grey old year,      Thy working time is done,     And gone for thee the silver moon,      And golden noon-day sun;     Yet sad old year - and glad old year -      We'll know no better one.