 | Studies of Sensation and Event |  |
148
A CHRISTIAN'S DRINKING CHAUNT.
Oh! the world is a place where the happiest of things
Is to blind one's eyes to the cruel guile,
That lurks with a thousand ready stings
Often under the beautiful smile;
And the finest of magics to dim the sight,
Is the wine, the wine, the wine we pour!
Then drink! and dream that the world goes right;
Oh drink! and dream that we'll doubt no more.
Is to blind one's eyes to the cruel guile,
That lurks with a thousand ready stings
Often under the beautiful smile;
And the finest of magics to dim the sight,
Is the wine, the wine, the wine we pour!
Then drink! and dream that the world goes right;
Oh drink! and dream that we'll doubt no more.
They tell us the silliest of things is to trust,
If it be not yet sillier, distrust to show;
We give to them back, that trust we must,
For it is the most beautiful pleasure we know;
Let them nickname it folly, and sober, depart;—
The wine, the wine, the wine we pour!
That glorious young folly shall rouse in each heart,
To make ancient music, and fling wide the door.
If it be not yet sillier, distrust to show;
We give to them back, that trust we must,
For it is the most beautiful pleasure we know;
Let them nickname it folly, and sober, depart;—
The wine, the wine, the wine we pour!
149
To make ancient music, and fling wide the door.
The wine cups are foaming, our brows shine delight;
The world raves behind us; arise we, arise!
Drink deep our contempt for each low-hearted wight,
Who prefers sober sneers to our love-bedimmed eyes!
Again, fill again, all together, drink again,
To this wine, this wine, this wine we pour!
It rolls to our lips, and it woos us to drain;
And we kiss as we drink, and each kiss yearns for more.
The world raves behind us; arise we, arise!
Drink deep our contempt for each low-hearted wight,
Who prefers sober sneers to our love-bedimmed eyes!
Again, fill again, all together, drink again,
To this wine, this wine, this wine we pour!
It rolls to our lips, and it woos us to drain;
And we kiss as we drink, and each kiss yearns for more.
The sober ones say, when this wine-dream has passed,
We shall each doubt the other, be deceived, and deceive;
Is it so!—then exhaust we our joys while they last,
And wring from the hour what weeks can't retrieve:
Sober life comes amain with its cares and gloom;
But the wine, the wine, the wine we pour!
Now is ours! and defying the worst that can come,
Over time and fate conquering, drink, drink to the core!
We shall each doubt the other, be deceived, and deceive;
Is it so!—then exhaust we our joys while they last,
And wring from the hour what weeks can't retrieve:
Sober life comes amain with its cares and gloom;
But the wine, the wine, the wine we pour!
Now is ours! and defying the worst that can come,
Over time and fate conquering, drink, drink to the core!
| Studies of Sensation and Event | |