A Lyric to Mirth
While the milder fates consent,Let's enjoy our merriment :Drink, and dance, and pipe, and play ;Kiss our dollies night and day :Crowned with clusters of the vine,Let us sit, and quaff our wine.Call on Bacchus, chant his praise ;Shake the thyrse, and bite the bays :Rouse Anacreon from the dead,And return him drunk to bed :Sing o'er Horace, for ere longDeath will come and mar the song :Then shall Wilson and GotiereNever sing or play more here.
Sign in to like, rate and collect poems, and keep track of what you've read.