The pretty flow’rets bending low,
As though to shun the wired-god’s kisses.
Kisses—hah! hah!—around this string
Of other days what memories twine—
Bring, merry comrades, quickly bring
Youth-giving and song-making wine.
Fill, fill—on the faithful brim
Pile up the sparkling flood—
Drink, drink, till the living stream
Run conqueror through the blood.