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Thomas Moore - Wreath the Bowl
Work rating: Low

Wreath the bowl 
With flowers of soul, 
The brightest Wit can find us, 
We`ll take a flight 
Towards heaven to-night, 
And leave dull earth behind us. 
Should Love amid 
The wreaths be hid 
That Joy, the enchanter, brings us, 
No danger fear, 
While wine is near — 
We`ll drown him if he stings us. 
Then, wreath the bowl 
With flowers of soul, 
The brightest Wit can find us. 
We`ll take a flight 
Towards heaven to-night, 
And leave dull earth behind us. 

`Twas nectar fed 
Of old, `tis said, 
Their Junos, Joves, Apollos, 
And man may brew 
His nectar too, 
The rich receipt`s as follows: 
Take wine like this, 
Let looks of bliss 
Around it well be blended, 
Then bring Wit`s beam 
To warm the stream, 
And there`s your nectar, splendid! 
So, wreath the bowl, 
With flowers of soul, 
The brightest Wit can find us, 
We`ll take a flight 
Towards heaven to-night, 
And leave dull earth behind us. 

Say, why did Time 
His glass sublime 
Fill up with sands unsightly, 
When wine, he knew, 
Runs brisker through, 
And sparkles far more brightly? 
Oh, lend it us, 
And, smiling thus, 
The glass in two we`ll sever, 
Make pleasure glide 
In double tide, 
And fill both ends for ever! 
Then, wreath the bowl 
With flowers of soul 
The brightest Wit can find us; 
We`ll take a flight 
Towards heaven to-night, 
And leave dull earth behind us.
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