English poem
The American Songster, Song
by Anonymous
By the gayly circling glass We can see how minutes pass; By the hollow casks are told How the waning night grows old, How the waning night grows old.
Soon, too soon, the busy day Drives us from our sport and play: What have we with day to do. Sons of care, 'twas made for you, Sons of care, 'twas made for you.