Wine, No. 23

Cast aside dull books and thought; Sweet is folly, sweet is play: Take the pleasure Spring hath brought In youth's opening holiday! Right it is old age should ponder On grave matters fraught with care; Tender youth is free to wander, Free to frolic light as air. Like a dream our prime is flown, Prisoned in a study: Sport and folly are youth's own, Tender youth and ruddy.

Lo, the Spring of life slips by, Frozen Winter comes apace; Strength is 'minished silently, Care writes wrinkles on our face: Blood dries up and courage fails us, Pleasures dwindle, joys decrease, Till old age at length assails us With his troop of illnesses. Like a dream our prime is flown, Prisoned in a study; Sport and folly are youth's own, Tender youth and ruddy.

Live we like the gods above; This is wisdom, this is truth: Chase the joys of tender love In the leisure of our youth! Keep the vows we swore together, Lads, obey that ordinance; Seek the fields in sunny weather, Where the laughing maidens dance. Like a dream our prime is flown, Prisoned in a study; Sport and folly are youth's own, Tender youth and ruddy.

There the lad who lists may see Which among the maids is kind: There young limbs deliciously Flashing through the dances wind: While the girls their arms are raising, Moving, winding o'er the lea, Still I stand and gaze, and gazing They have stolen the soul of me! Like a dream our prime is flown, Prisoned in a study; Sport and folly are youth's own, Tender youth and ruddy.