May the happiest days of your past
	Be the saddest days of your future.

	May Dame Fortune ever smile on you,
	But never her daughter—Miss Fortune.

	Say why are beauties praised and honored most,
	The wise man’s passion and the vain man’s Toast.

Pope.    

	Here’s a sigh to those who love me,
	And a smile for those who hate;
	And whatever sky’s above me,
	Here’s a heart for every fate.

	A little health, a little wealth,
	A little house and freedom,
	With some few friends for certain ends,
	But little cause to need ’em.

	Here’s to friends both near and far;
	Here’s to woman, man’s guiding star;
	Here’s to friends we’ve yet to meet,
	Here’s to those here, all here I greet;
	Here’s to childhood, youth, old age;
	Here’s to prophet, bard and sage,
	Here’s a health to every one,
	Peace on earth, and heaven won!

	Come in the evening, or come in the morning—
	Come when you’re looked for, or come without warning;
	A thousand welcomes you’ll find here before you,
	And the oftener you come here the more I’ll adore you!

Thomas Moore.    

	Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
	And never brought to min’?
	Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
	And the days o’ auld lang syne?
	For auld lang syne, my dear,
	For auld lang syne,
	We’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet
	For auld lang syne!

Robert Burns.    

	A garland for the hero’s crest,
	And twined by her he loves the best;
	To every lovely lady bright,
	What can I wish but faithful knight?
	To every faithful lover, too,
	What can I wish but lady true?
	And knowledge to the studious sage;
	And pillow soft to head of age.
	To thee, dear school-boy, whom my lay
	Has cheated of thy hour of play,
	Light task and merry holiday!
	To all, to each, a fair good-night,
	And pleasing dreams and slumber light!

Sir Walter Scott.