Festal song

Oh! wreathe the bowl with Lotus flowers,

And drop the rose-leaves in the wine,

And feast away the festal hours,

Live while thy life is thine.

Too soon, thy soul will slip away,

Down to the land where no delight

Passeth along that shadowy way

Which leads unto the night.

Then joyous laugh and sweep thy lyre,

And sing of love and dream of Fame,

And kiss, and clasp thy heart's desire,

Since all will end the same.