As a bathtub lined with white porcelain, When the hot water gives out or goes tepid, So is the slow cooling of our chivalrous passion, O my much praised but-not-altogether-satisfactory lady.
Go, my songs, seek your praise from the young and from the intolerant, Move among the lovers of perfection alone. Seek ever to stand in the hard Sophoclean light And take you wounds from it gladly.
The jewelled steps are already quite white with dew, It is so late that the dew soaks my gauze stockings, And I let down the crystal curtain And watch the moon through the clear autumn.
Give me women, wine, and snuff Untill I cry out "hold, enough!" You may do so sans objection Till the day of resurrection: For, bless my beard, they aye shall be My beloved Trinity.
Altho' he has left me for greed o' the siller, I dinna envy him the gains he can win; I rather wad bear a' the lade o' my sorrow, Than ever hae acted sae faithless to him.
Then fill up a bumper and make it o'erflow, And honours masonic prepare for to throw; May ev'ry true Brother of the Compass and Square Have a big-belly'd bottle when harass'd with care.
O thou who kindly dost provide For every creature's want! We bless Thee, God of Nature wide, For all Thy goodness lent: And if it please Thee, Heavenly Guide, May never worse be sent; But, whether granted, or denied, Lord, bless us with content. Amen!
O thou, in whom we live and move- Who made the sea and shore; Thy goodness constantly we prove, And grateful would adore; And, if it please Thee, Power above! Still grant us, with such store, The friend we trust, the fair we love- And we desire no more. Amen!