Moved with violence, changed in hue, Fluttered headlong from the sky. And then I looked up toward a mountain-tract, Came floating on for many a month and year, "Wrinkled ostler, grim and thin! "Bitter barmaid, waning fast! See that sheets are on my bed; "Slip-shod waiter, lank and sour, At The Dragon on the heath! Let us have a quiet hour, Let us hob-and-nob with Death. "I am old, but let me drink; "Wine is good for shrivelled lips, "Sit thee down, and have no shame, Cheek by jowl, and knee by knee: What care I for any name? What for order or degree? "Let me screw thee up a peg: Let me loose thy tongue with wine: Callest thou that thing a leg? Which is thinnest ? thine or mine? "Thou shalt not be saved by works: Thou hast been a sinner too: Ruined trunks on withered forks, Empty scarecrows, I and you! "Fill the cup, and fill the can: Every moment dies a man, "We are men of ruined blood; Therefore comes it we are wise. Fish are we that love the mud, "Name and fame! to fly sublime Through the courts, the camps, the schools, Is to be the ball of Time, Bandied by the hands of fools. "Friendship!-to be two in one- "Virtue !—to be good and just- Mixed with cunning sparks of hell, "O! we two as well can look "Fill the cup, and fill the can: Have a rouse before the morn: Every moment dies a man, Every moment one is born. "Drink, and let the parties rave: They are filled with idle spleen, Rising, falling, like a wave. For they know not what they mean. "He that roars for liberty Faster binds a tyrant's power; And the tyrant's cruel glee Forces on the freer hour. "Fill the can, and fill the cup: Are but dust that rises up, "Greet her with applausive breath, "No, I love not what is new She is of an ancient house : And I think we know the hue Of that cap upon her brows. "Let her go! her thirst she slakes "Drink to lofty hopes that cool- "Chant me now some wicked stave, "Fear not thou to loose thy tongue; "Change, reverting to the years, When thy nerves could understand What there is in loving tears, And the warmth of hand in hand. "Tell me tales of thy first love- Till the graves begin to move, "Fill the can, and fill the cup: Trooping from their mouldy dens The chap-fallen circle spreads: Welcome, fellow-citizens, Hollow hearts and empty heads! "You are bones, and what of that? "Death is king, and Vivat Rex! "No, I cannot praise the fire In your eye-nor yet your lip: All the more do I admire Joints of cunning workmanship. "Lo! God's likeness-the ground-plan- "Drink to Fortune, drink to Chance, While we keep a little breath! Drink to heavy Ignorance! Hob-and-nob with brother Death! “Thou art mazed, the night is long, |