Sunlike it creeps; a flood of light, with blessings in its train;
The darkened land, the barren land, shall ne'er be so again.
O Western light! O light of blood! O hue of England's war!
He starts to life with sudden bound, to speak of peace no more.
"Ho! call the chiefs; ho! bid the men to gather on the lawn,
Prepare the boats—in silence all—we cross before the dawn."
But those who heard the welcome word, still wondered that he said—
"Perplexed, I ween, my rest has been, but God is for the Red."
Drinking No Sin.
Let no good soul be thirsty,
While I have wine to spare.
Let no brave heart be careful,
While I am free from care.
So bring the jugs and glasses
And let the lads come in;
There's not a man of all their clan
Who thinks good liquor a sin.
The Captain must have brandy
To warm his ancient blood;
The Doctor likes his negus
And be sure you make it good;
But the red red wine of Bordeaux
The parson's praise will win.
For he's not the man that will, or can
Pronounce good liquor a sin.
The fire unto the wine, boys,
A merrier lustre lends,
As, basking in its sunshine.
We drink to absent friends;
For morning, or repentance,
We will not care a pin;
There's not a man of all our clan
Who makes his liquor a sin.
