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Paul Laurence Dunbar - The Stirrup Cup
Work rating: Low

Come, drink a stirrup cup with me,
    Before we close our rouse.
  You `re all aglow with wine, I know:
    The master of the house,
    Unmindful of our revelry,
    Has drowned the carking devil care,
      And slumbers in his chair.

  Come, drink a cup before we start;
    We `ve far to ride to-night.
  And Death may take the race we make,
    And check our gallant flight:
    But even he must play his part,
    And tho` the look he wears be grim,
    We `ll drink a toast to him!

  For Death,--a swift old chap is he,
    And swift the steed He rides.
  He needs no chart o`er main or mart,
    For no direction bides.
    So, come, a final, cup with me,
    And let the soldiers` chorus swell,--
    To hell with care, to hell!
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