English poem
Quick! We Have But A Second.
by Thomas Moore
Quick! We have but a Second. Fill round the cup, while you may; For Time, the churl, hath beckoned, And we must away, away! Grasp the pleasure that's flying, For oh, not Orpheus' strain Could keep sweet hours from dying, Or charm them to life again. Then, quick! we have but a second, Fill round the cup, while you may; For Time, the churl, hath beckoned, And we must away, away! See the glass, how it flushes. Like some young Hebe's lip, And half meets thine, and blushes That thou shouldst delay to sip. Shame, oh shame unto thee, If ever thou see'st that day, When a cup or lip shall woo thee, And turn untouched away! Then, quick! we have but a second, Fill round, fill round, while you may; For Time, the churl, hath beckoned, And we must away, away!
More by Thomas Moore
- Poor Broken Flower.
- Poor Wounded Heart
- Prepare thy soul, young AZIM!— thou hast braved...
- Proposals For A Gynaecocracy. Addressed To A Late Radical Meeting.
- Recent Dialogue.
- Reflections. Addressed To The Author Of The Article Of The Church In The Last Number Of The Quarterly Review.
- Reinforcements For Lord Wellington.
- Religion And Trade.