Shirking the fight that a man should fight.
No more verses in praise of Wine!
Where are the glorious days we knew
Touched with the rays of a light divine,
Decked with a garland of thyme and rue?
[195] ] Where is their glamour for yours and you?
Where is their laughter for me and mine?
Where are the glorious days we knew
Ere knees were bent to the gods of Wine?
See our boat, with a broken mast,