« 이전계속 »
Fill the merry bowls my boys,
Join in Bacchanalian roar.
O how happy we shall be ;
Night, my boys, for you and me.
See the hated miscreant dies ! Mirth, with all thy train, come in, Banish sorrows, tears, and sighs.
O'er the merry, &.
SWEET IS LIFE.
To a kind and virtuous fair ;
Then 'tis anguish, grief, and care.
With it sweets and bitters too ;
Must partake their share of rue.
When two hearts in union meet,
Mingles bitters with the sweets.
DROWN IT IN THE BOWL. The glasses sparkle on the board,
The wine is ruby bright,
Of ease and fond delight.
The day is gone, the night's our own,
Then let us feast the soul ;
Why, drown it in the bowl.
But that I do deny ;
Or pain from beauty's eye!
When they would joys controul :
Let's drown it in the bowl.
Then surely it is wise
And seize him as he flies.
The moments as they roll:
Why drown it in the bowl.
RISE, GENTLE MOON. Day has gone down on the Baltic's broad billow, Ev'ning has sigh'd her last to the lone willow, Night hurries on, earth and ocean to cover : Rise, gentle moon, and light me to my lover. 'Twas by thy light he first stole forth to view me, Brighter since then hast thou ever seem'd to me ; Let the wild waves still the red sun roll over, Thine is the light of all lights to a lover.
TIME IS ON THE WING.
Life's rough path, and let's be gay ;
Thoughtless youth proposes,
And trifles time away ;
This lesson seems to bring,
And time is on the wing.
Dulcet as the voice of love ;
Down the flowery grove ;
And pleasure cloy'd will find
When time is on the wing.
TELL HER, I'LL LOVE HER.
TELL her, I'll love her while the clouds drop rain,
HELMET ON HIS BROW.
And his sabre by his side,
To conquer or to die.
His plume, like the pendant stream,
In the wanton winter's wind,
Then let the trumpet sound,
Or once with honour die.
A soldier's fame must be
And his helmet white and free.
And his helmet white as snow, &c.
"THE SEA. The sea, the sea, the open sea, The blue, the fresh, the ever free: Without a mark, without a bound, It runneth the earth's wide region round: It plays with the clouds, it mocks the skies, Or like a cradled creature lies. I'm on the sea, I'm on the sea, I am where I would ever be, With the blue above and the blue below, And silence wheresoe'er I go. If a storm should come and awake the deep, What matter? I shall ride and sleep. I love, O how I love to ride On the fierce, foaming, bursting tide, Where every mad wave drowns the moon, And whistles aloft its tempest tune : And tells how goeth the world below, And why the south-west wind doth blow.
I never was on the dull, tame shore,
I HAVE PLUCK'D THE FAIREST FLOWER. I HAVE pluck'd the fairest flower, I have dream'd in
fancy's bower, I have bask'd in Beauty's eyes, I have mingled melting sighs.
I have pluck’d, &c. If all those sweets to hive, I'm the guiltiest man aliveBat gentle maids believe I never can deceive, Nor cause your breast to heave with a sad heigh ho,
With a sad heigh ho, with a sad heigh ho. But to raise in beauty's frame the burning blush of
shame, Nor bid the tear to start, far be it from my heart, Such base attempts I scorn, to honour I was born, Then gentle maidens spare the heart you thus ensnare, Or the willow I must wear with a sad heigh ho, With a sad heigh ho, with a sad heigh ho, &c.