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.
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 throe, and blushes
That thou should'st delay to sip.
Shame, oh shame unto thee
If e'er thou see'st that day
When a cup or lip shall woo thee,
And turn untouched away.
Quick! we have but a second,
Fill round the cup while you may:
For Time, the churl, hath beckoned,
And we must away, away!
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