While the milder fates consent, <br />Let's enjoy our merriment : <br />Drink, and dance, and pipe, and play ; <br />Kiss our dollies night and day : <br />Crowned with clusters of the vine, <br />Let us sit, and quaff our wine. <br />Call on Bacchus, chant his praise ; <br />Shake the thyrse, and bite the bays : <br />Rouse Anacreon from the dead, <br />And return him drunk to bed : <br />Sing o'er Horace, for ere long <br />Death will come and mar the song : <br />Then shall Wilson and Gotiere <br />Never sing or play more here.<br /><br />Robert Herrick<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-lyric-to-mirth/
