Page:Poets of John Company.djvu/72

50

Time was when we frowned at others.
 * We thought we were wiser then;

Ha! Ha! let them think of their mothers
 * Who hope to see them again:

Ho! stand to your glasses! steady!
 * The thoughtless are here the wise;

Here's a cup to the dead already—
 * Hurrah! for the next that dies.

Not a sigh for the lot that darkles,
 * Not a tear for the friends that sink;

We'll fall, 'mid the wine cup's sparkles;
 * As mute as the wine we drink:

Come stand to your glasses! steady!
 * 'Tis this that the respite buys;

Quaff a cup to the dead already—
 * Hurrah! for the next that dies.

There's mist on the glass congealing—
 * 'Tis the hurricane's fiery breath;

And thus does the warmth of feeling
 * Turn ice in the grasp of death:

But stand to your glasses! steady!
 * For a moment the vapour flies;

Here's a cup to the dead already—
 * Hurrah! for the next that dies.

Who dreads to the dust returning?
 * Who shrinks from the sable shore,

Where the high and haughty yearning
 * Of the soul shall sting no more?

No! stand to your glasses! steady!
 * The world is a world of lies:

A cup to the dead already,
 * And hurrah! for the next that dies.