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Batch the Eighth

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Admiral Augustus Hervey, third Earl of Bristol ( 1724 - 1779 ) is writing of his vigil over the death bed of his mother in 1768 ( my emphasis ).

'I only know I have a satisfaction of having been the one here to continue that invariable filial affection and duty I had ever shown to her, to her last sigh, and hope that she is happy now.  God knows how all these things are, or why anything is; I can only say, like Desdemona, ''tis strange, 'tis wondrous strange' and in any sense of the word our whole conditions and dispositions seem as she also says ''pitiful, 'tis wondrous pitiful''.

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Plus, in a radical departure, herewith a host of toasts for social events, both cheering and chilling:

'May you see your children's children !'

and:

'May you merit many years !

and, the all-purpose Old English toast, salutation and farewell:

'Wæs þu hæl !' [ pronounced: Whas thu hal !' ] 

plus:

A venerable verse, variously attributed but generally to military sources, where the toast comes as the sting at the end ( my emphasis ):

 

Who minds to the dust returning ?

Who shrinks from the sable shore ?

Where the high and lofty yearning

of the soul shall be no more ?

 

So stand to your glasses steady,

This world is a world of lies,

Here's a toast to the dead already

And a toast to the next to die !'

 

Guaranteed to break the ice at parties !

 

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