 | Poems |  |
196
THE EPICUREAN.
You upon the tossing surges,
We upon the shore;
Soon the mighty tide immerges
Both for evermore.
We upon the shore;
Soon the mighty tide immerges
Both for evermore.
Love, you say, is nought but folly,
—Do not tell me why.
Earth's best joys are melancholy,
—Learn it you, not I!
—Do not tell me why.
Earth's best joys are melancholy,
—Learn it you, not I!
How long Love may choose to love me,
What is that to me?
Joy comes from below, above me?
Either let it be!
What is that to me?
Joy comes from below, above me?
Either let it be!
197
We on easy margin lolling,
Hear the billow fret;
See you mud and weeds uphauling
In your toilsome net.
Hear the billow fret;
See you mud and weeds uphauling
In your toilsome net.
Here we kiss and make us merry,
Drinking of the best;
When the tide our joys shall bury,
Here we'll lie at rest.
Drinking of the best;
When the tide our joys shall bury,
Here we'll lie at rest.
If they will, let angel pinions
Save us into air.
Hope and Fear have joint dominions.
Be the present fair!
Save us into air.
Hope and Fear have joint dominions.
Be the present fair!
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