Select poems of Edward Hovel Thurlow :: :: University of Virginia Library

Let us drink the joyous wine,
Painting Bacchus on the harp;
Bacchus, finder of the Choir,
Loving the immortal Song,
Nourish'd up with Love, and held
To the heart of Venus dear.

By whom joyous drinking comes,
By whom favour, too, is born,
By whom evil mournings cease,
By whom sorrow is subdued.

Then, the cup, discretely pour'd,
Let the gentle youths present;
And unmixed sorrow fly
To the wind-created storm.

Then, the cup let us accept;
And our wrinkled cares dismiss:

For what benefit to you,
By solicitude disturb'd?
Have we known what e'er shall be?
Life to men is wholly dark.

Full of wine, I love to dance,
And, with ointments bath'd, to play,
With the lovely youth engag'd,
And with lovely women too:
Let it be their care who will,
What the worth may be of care.

Joyous let us quaff the wine,
And paint Bacchus on the harp.