The Ph[oe]nix was, as you might say, The burning question of his day: The more he burned, the more he grew Splendiferous in feathers new. And from his ashes rising bland,...
A health to King Neptune, The boss of the wave! Who sits on the Ocean And makes it behave. Come fill up your bumpers And take a long pull! When he's calm he's not dry--...
Here's to Lady Nicotine! Saint and Sorceress and Queen! Saint, whose purple halo rings Lift our eyes from earthly things; Witch, whose wand of scented briar Transmutes dead weeds to fragrant fire;...