I lived, I loved, I quaffed, like thee:
I died: let earth my bones resign.
Fill up—thou canst not injure me;
The worm hath fouler lips than thine.
Better to hold the sparkling grape,
Than nurse the earth-worm’s slimy brood;
And circle in the goblet’s shape
The drink of gods, than reptile’s food.
Quaff while thou canst: another race,
When thou and thine, like me, are sped,