The present moment's all our own,
The next, who ever saw! ~ Mickle.
Come, fill me up a brimming cup,
We'll season wine with wit and song;
For earthly joy, without alloy,
Not often comes, nor tarries long:
Unthrift it were, to look for Care,
No need hath he Time's wings to borrow;
Then, friends, be gay with me to-day,
And I'll be wise with you to-morrow!
With loved ones near, good friends, good cheer,
The fireside glow, and genial heart;
Why should we look in Fate's black book,
The present moment's mirth to thwart!
In green old age, the Christmas Sage,
Should never wear a frown or furrow;
Then, friends, be gay with me to-day,
And I'll be wise with you to-morrow!
The cuckoo flies from wintry skies,
And seldom fails to find a spring;
And, happy bird, is never heard,
A single, saddening note to sing!
But even if right, in Reason's spite,
To fly from joy, and seek for sorrow,
Still, friends be gay with me to-day,
And I'll be wise with you to-morrow!
