(A Song)

Ah! the clink of our glasses
How they clink as we drink!
And memory passes,
Too pleasant to think.

(The Orator)

"Too much there is singing and dancing,
Sweet sorrow is scorned for her weeds.
Come back dear Brother October
And chant us thine anthem of deeds!"

(The Revellers)

Here's one to each other,
Another as deep,
And life is a brother,
Too pleasant to weep.

(The Orator)

(While a dark cloud appeareth on the horizon.)

"Sweet thought is outclassed and outbidden,
Gay summer too high on her wings!
Come back dear Brother October
And chant us thy requiem of Kings!"

(Consternation among revellers. The King starteth up, but Puck singeth:)