Brothers mine, the sparrow's chatter, etc.
FALK.
Happy songster! Wherefore scare him
From our blossom-laden bower?
Rather for his music spare him
All our future, flower by flower;
Trust me, 'twill be cheaply buying
Present song with future fruit;
List the proverb, "Time is flying;—"
Soon our garden music's mute.
CHORUS.
List the proverb, etc.
FALK.
I will live in song and gladness,—
Then, when every bloom is shed,
Sweep together, scarce in sadness,
All that glory, wan and dead:
Fling the gates wide! Bruise and batter,
Tear and trample, hoof and tusk;
I have plucked the flower, what matter
Who devours the withered husk!
CHORUS.
I have plucked the flower, etc.
[They clink and empty their glasses.
FALK [to the ladies].
There—that's the song you asked me for; but pray
Be lenient to it—I can't think to-day.