  We’ve drunk to everything we know, From Lang Syne to The Ladies; Now, one more Toast before we go— Mephisto, Prince of Hades! When sober we are wont, ’tis true, To bury, not to praise him; But let us give the De’il his due, And toast him while we raise him. For tho’ his company we’re taught To shun, there’s no denying Mephisto never yet was caught Beneath false colors flying. He wears his coat and plume of red With candor so unswerving We must applaud, although ’tis said He took some points from Irving. Think of the Stage, think of the Church, Without their villain ruddy, If Old Nick left them in the lurch Without an understudy! As well “Othello” played without The Gentleman of Color, Or “Hamlet” with the Prince left out: Could anything be duller? A world from all temptation free Would sadly lack in flavor; And what would Untried Virtue be But Salt without its savor? To pawn his soul the sinner goes More than half-way to meet him, Yet when Mephisto would foreclose He does his best to cheat him. In Church to-day we sound his Knell, To-morrow at a revel We fall to raising him—and—well, We treat him like the Devil. So let us toast our Foe of Foes, Long may we live to rout him. Here’s to Mephisto! Goodness knows What would we do without him. And, good Mephisto, do not spurn Our Toast with mocking laughter, Nor yet the compliment return— By Toasting us hereafter! |
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