Classic Poem

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.