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IRISH MELODIES. |
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'T was nectar fed
Of old, 't is said, Their Junos, Joves, Apollos;
And man may brew
His nectar too, The rich receipt's as follows:
Take wine like this,
Let looks of bliss Around it well be blended,
Then bring Wit's beam
To warm the stream, And there fs your nectar splendid!
So, wreath the bowl
With flowers of soul, The brightest Wit can find us;
We'll take a flight
Tow'rds heaven to-night, And leave dull earth behind us.
Say, why did Time
His glass sublime Fill up with sands unsightly,
When wine, he knew,
Runs brisker through, And sparkles far more brightly ?
Oh, lend it us,
And, smiling thus, The glass in two well sever.
Make pleasure glide
In double tide, And fill both ends for ever! |
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