Or when the jocund bowl we pass,
And joke and wit and whim abound,
When song and catch and friend and lass
In sparkling wine we toast around,
When Bull and Pun
Rude riot run,
And finding still the mirth increasing,
Pealing laughter roars sans ceasing,
I peal and roar and pant and say,
Thus let me laugh my life away.
III
When dreams of fame my fancy fill,
Sweet soothing dreams of verse and rhyme,
That mark the poet's happy skill,
And bid him live to latest time,
Each rising thought
With music fraught,
All full, all flowing, nothing wanting,
All harmonious, all enchanting,
Oh thus, in rapt delights I say,
Thus let me sing my life away!
IV
Oh lovely woman, gen'rous wine,
These potent pleasures let me quaff!
Thy raptures, wit, oh make them mine!
Oh let me drink and love and laugh!
In flowing verse
Let me rehearse
How well I've used your bounteous treasure;
Then at last when full my measure,
Tho' pale my lip, I'll smile and say,
I've liv'd the best of lives away.
C. CLIFTON
LETTER LXXXVI
Frank Henley to Oliver Trenchard
London, Grosvenor Street
Within a week, Oliver, we shall once more meet. What years of separation may afterward follow is more than I can divine. I surely need not tell thee that this thought of separation, were it not opposed by principle, would indeed be painful, and that it is at moments almost too mighty for principle itself. But we are the creatures of an omnipotent necessity; and there can be but little need to remind thee that a compliance with the apparently best should ever be an unrepining and cheerful act of duty.