A toast to thee, o 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, o 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.