I

Now with the marriage of the lip and beaker Let Joy be born! and in the rosy shine, The slanting starlight of the lifted liquor, Let Care, the hag, go drown! No more repine At all life's ills! Come, bury them in wine! Room for great guests! Yea, let us usher in Philosophies of old Anacreon And Omar, that, from dawn to glorious dawn, Shall lesson us in love and song and sin.