But glitt'ring and joyfully winking,
When brightly the third star doth shine;
It sounds in the spirit like singing,
It glows in the bosom like wine.
Then fill, ye three cordial planets,
Our breasts with your glory divine;
In life and in death our companions,
Be love, and sweet music, and wine!
And wine, and sweet love, and singing,
They honour the festival night;