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316 The Song Book
'Twas nectar fed
Of old, 'tis 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's your nectar, splendid!
So wreathe the bowl
With flow'rs of soul The brightest wit can find us;
We'll take a flight
Towards 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,
O lend it us,
And, smiling thus, The glass in two we'd sever,
Make pleasure glide
In double tide, And fill both ends for ever!
Then wreathe the bowl,
With flow'rs of soul The brightest wit can find us;
We'll take a flight
Tow^ds Heav'n to-night, And leave dull earth behind us.
Words by Moore. Tune (from Bunting) Nora with the Purse. |
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