BACCHUS, burnisher of souls, Accept a large libation; Let generous bumpers, flowing bowls Perfect us in potation. Drain the glass, the goblet drain, Drown awhile each sorrow; Tonight begone all care and pain And thinking of tomorrow. Venus, frown not, while we pour Our wine in copious measure, Each crimson drop to thee is more Than Mexic's miny treasure. Drain the glass &c. The monk, who mopes in cloister'd cell, May write, and rave, and bellow; At night, with rosy, romping Nell, He's quite another fellow. Drain the glass &c. The sparkling thought, the joke, the glee, Shall all our features lighten; So for my song, the burden be, Let's brighten, lads, let's brighten! Drain the glass, the goblet drain, Drown awhile each sorrow; Tonight begone all care and pain And thinking of tomorrow. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE FOUNTAIN by MUHAMMAD AL-MU'TAMID II THE PASSERS BY by AL-RADI BILLAH SIMPKIN by ROBERT SEYMOUR BRIDGES MONTCLAIR by WILLIAM LAWRENCE CHITTENDEN THE GATE by ELIZABETH JANE COATSWORTH LINES FROM A NOTEBOOK - APRIL 1805 by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE |