Rum And Milk
By Charles Dalmon
Now some may drink to ladies fine,
With painted cheeks and gowns of silk;
But we will drink to dairymaids,
In pocket-mugs of rum and milk!
O, ’tis up in the morning early,
When the dew is on the grass,
And St. John’s bell rings for matins,
And St. Mary’s rings for mass!
The merry skylarks soar and sing,
And seem to Heaven very near —
Who knows what blessed inns they see,
What holy drinking songs they hear?
O, ’tis up in the morning early,
When the dew is on the grass,
And St. John’s bell rings for matins,
And St. Mary’s rings for mass!
The mushrooms may be priceless pearls
A queen has lost beside the stream,
But rum is melted rubies when
It turns the milk to golden cream!
O, ’tis up in the morning early,
When the dew is on the grass,
And St. John’s bell rings for matins,
And St. Mary’s ring for mass!
