A Drinking Song
Sons of Bacchus, let's be gay,
Nimbly move the cheerful glass;
Life is short and glides away,
Let it then in pleasure pass.
Phoebus now may hide his light,
Silver Cynthia cease to shine;
Bacchus' rays are far more bright,
Sparkling from the generous wine.
When the nymph is coy and cold,
And puts on a scornful air,
Bacchus makes the lover bold;
Courage ever gains the fair.
While the fool who wastes his time
Trifling o'er insipid tea,
Ne'er can aim at things sublime,
Till he freely drinks like me.
Nimbly move the cheerful glass;
Life is short and glides away,
Let it then in pleasure pass.
Phoebus now may hide his light,
Silver Cynthia cease to shine;
Bacchus' rays are far more bright,
Sparkling from the generous wine.
When the nymph is coy and cold,
And puts on a scornful air,
Bacchus makes the lover bold;
Courage ever gains the fair.
While the fool who wastes his time
Trifling o'er insipid tea,
Ne'er can aim at things sublime,
Till he freely drinks like me.
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