Classic Poem

Come fill, my merry friends, to-night,
And let the winds unheeded blow,
And we will wake the deep delight
Which true hearts only know.
And ere the passing wine be done,
Come drink to those most fair and dear,
And I will pledge a cup to one
Who shall be nameless here.

Come fill, nor let the flagon stand,
Till pleasure's voice shall drown the wind,
Nor heed old Winter's stormy hand
Which shakes the window-blind.
And down the midnight hour shall run
The brightest moments of the year;
While I will fill, my friends, to one
Who shall be nameless here.

Pledge you to lips that smile in sleep,
Whose dreams have strewed your path with flowers,
And to those sacred eyes that weep
Whene'er your fortune lowers;
And charm the night, ere it be done,
With names that are for ever dear,
While I must pour and quaff to one
Who shall be nameless here.

To her I proudly poured the first
Inspiring beaker of the Rhine,
And still it floods my veins as erst
It filled the German vine.
And when her memory, like the sun,
Shall widen down my dying year,
My latest cup will be to one
Who shall be nameless here.