IV.
So long have all the days been meagre,
With empty platter, empty cup,
No meats nor sweets to do me pleasure,
That if I crave—is it over-eager,
The deepest draught, the fullest measure,
The beaker to the brim poured up?
So long have all the days been meagre,
With empty platter, empty cup,
No meats nor sweets to do me pleasure,
That if I crave—is it over-eager,
The deepest draught, the fullest measure,
The beaker to the brim poured up?