VII

Come, fill the cup, and in the fire of spring
The Winter Garment of Repentance fling:
    The bird of time has but a little way
To fly - and Lo! The Bird is on the Wing

XIII

Some for the Glories of This World; and some
Sigh for the Prophet’s Paradise to come;
   Ah, take the cash, and let the Credit go,
Nor heed the rumble of a distant Drum!

XXIV

Ah, make the most of what we yet may spend,
Before we too into the dust descend;
    Dust into Dust; and under Dust to lie,
Sans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer, and - sans End!

XXV

Alike for those who for TO-DAY prepare,
And those that after some TO-MORROW stare,
   A Muezzin from the Tower of Darkness cries,
‘Fools! Your reward is neither Here nor There.’

XXVI

Why all the Saints and Sages who discuss’d
Of the Two Worlds so wisely - they are thrust
Like foolish Prophets forth; their Words to Scorn
Are scater’d and their Mouths are stopt with Dust.

LIV

Waste not your Hour, nor in the vain pursuit
Of This and that endeavour and dispute;
    Better be jocund with the fruitful Grape
That sadden after none, or bitter, Fruit.

LV

You know, my Friends, with what a brave Carouse
I made a second Marriage in my house;
   Divorced old barren Reason from my Bed,
And took the Daughter of the Vine to Spouse.

LVI

For ‘IS’ and ‘IS-NOT’ though with Rule and Line,
And ‘Up-AND-DOWN’ by Logic I define,
   Of all that one should care to fathom, I
Was never deep in anything but - Wine.

LIX

The Grape that can with Logic absolute
The Two and Seventy jarring Sects confute:
   The sovereign Alchemist that in a trice
Life’s leaden metal into Gold transmute.

LXIII

Oh threats of hell and Hopes of Paradise!
One thing at least is certain - This life flies;
   One thing is certain and the rest is lies;
The flower that once has blown for ever dies.