The Cup Of Joy.

Let us mix a cup of Joy     That the wretched may employ,     Whom the Fates have made their toy.     Who have given brain and heart     To the thankless world of Art,     And from Fame have won no part.     Who have labored long at thought;     Starved and toiled and all for naught;     Sought and found not what they sought.     Let our goblet be the skull     Of a fool; made beautiful     With a gold nor base nor dull:     Gold of madcap fancies, once     It contained, that, sage or dunce,     Each can read whoever runs.     First we pour the liquid light     Of our dreams in; then the bright     Beauty that makes day of night.     Let this be the must wherefrom,     In due time, the mettlesome     Care-destroying drink shall come.     Folly next: with which mix in     Laughter of a child of sin,     And the red of mouth and chin.     These shall give the tang thereto,     Effervescence and rich hue     Which to all good wine are due.     Then into our cup we press     One wild kiss of wantonness,     And a glance that says not less.     Sparkles both that give a fine     Lustre to the drink divine,     Necessary to good wine.     Lastly in the goblet goes     Sweet a love-song, then a rose     Warmed upon her breast's repose.     These bouquet our drink. Now measure     With your arm the waist you treasure     Lift the cup and,"Here's to Pleasure!"