Give Me Joy
When age its wrinkles and its snows
Had laid on Talma's cheek and brow,
'Tis said he made the mournful vow,
No friend shall see my eyes unclose;
For every form he looked upon
Revealed a ghastly skeleton.
This earth was bright when first, a toy,
Life in my youthful hands was placed,
But now its waters have no taste —
Bring me the wine-cup! Give me joy!
Like Talma, in the present dim
And future dark, I see abound,
In silvery age and youth just crowned
With beauty's wreath, but spectres grim
E'en Fortune's ingots lost and won
Are watched by Care, the skeleton;
Nay, power, wealth, and pleasure cloy,
'Tis all the same sad change of tone
From smile to tear, from laugh to groan —
Bring me the wine-cup! Give me joy!
Though youth has fled, affections still
With steady glow my heart may cheer:
Come hither, wife and children dear,
Come, ere the cup again I fill,
Come, ere each loved shape looked upon
Shall seem to hide a skeleton.
What! was thy smile but a decoy?
And ye to whom I've given breath,
Do ye already wait my death?
Quick! quick! The wine-cup! Give me joy!
Begone, ye vipers whom I've nursed,
And cherished with my heart's best blood;
Beldame, avaunt! with all thy brood
And be ye all like me accurst!
Thank Heaven, thy witching beauty's gone
And leaves thee but a skeleton
Come, friend beloved! Thou since a boy
My more than brother, thou'lt not fail!
Away, thou death's-head grim and pale! —
Fill, fill the wine-cup! Give me joy!
Thou'st changed the wine, my throat it burns,
'Tis bitter as ingratitude!
What! say'st thou from the grape 'twas brewed?
Within my lips to gall it turns!
Bring me the glass! O death, thou'st won!
I see myself a skeleton!
And that weird shape was once a boy,
To whom each scene below shone fair?
God! How its eyeless sockets stare!
Is there no cup will give me joy?
No, not the bowl! The chalice bring,
Exhaustless with the Paschal blood
That purified sin's sable flood,
And still flows from Thee, thorn-crowned King!
In whom mine eyes behold alone
A Saviour, not a skeleton!
Oh, touch the hearts of wife and boy,
And friend, with quivering grace divine.
Thou wilt! Then let me life resign,
Draining Thy last cup's heavenly joy!
Had laid on Talma's cheek and brow,
'Tis said he made the mournful vow,
No friend shall see my eyes unclose;
For every form he looked upon
Revealed a ghastly skeleton.
This earth was bright when first, a toy,
Life in my youthful hands was placed,
But now its waters have no taste —
Bring me the wine-cup! Give me joy!
Like Talma, in the present dim
And future dark, I see abound,
In silvery age and youth just crowned
With beauty's wreath, but spectres grim
E'en Fortune's ingots lost and won
Are watched by Care, the skeleton;
Nay, power, wealth, and pleasure cloy,
'Tis all the same sad change of tone
From smile to tear, from laugh to groan —
Bring me the wine-cup! Give me joy!
Though youth has fled, affections still
With steady glow my heart may cheer:
Come hither, wife and children dear,
Come, ere the cup again I fill,
Come, ere each loved shape looked upon
Shall seem to hide a skeleton.
What! was thy smile but a decoy?
And ye to whom I've given breath,
Do ye already wait my death?
Quick! quick! The wine-cup! Give me joy!
Begone, ye vipers whom I've nursed,
And cherished with my heart's best blood;
Beldame, avaunt! with all thy brood
And be ye all like me accurst!
Thank Heaven, thy witching beauty's gone
And leaves thee but a skeleton
Come, friend beloved! Thou since a boy
My more than brother, thou'lt not fail!
Away, thou death's-head grim and pale! —
Fill, fill the wine-cup! Give me joy!
Thou'st changed the wine, my throat it burns,
'Tis bitter as ingratitude!
What! say'st thou from the grape 'twas brewed?
Within my lips to gall it turns!
Bring me the glass! O death, thou'st won!
I see myself a skeleton!
And that weird shape was once a boy,
To whom each scene below shone fair?
God! How its eyeless sockets stare!
Is there no cup will give me joy?
No, not the bowl! The chalice bring,
Exhaustless with the Paschal blood
That purified sin's sable flood,
And still flows from Thee, thorn-crowned King!
In whom mine eyes behold alone
A Saviour, not a skeleton!
Oh, touch the hearts of wife and boy,
And friend, with quivering grace divine.
Thou wilt! Then let me life resign,
Draining Thy last cup's heavenly joy!
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