Away from the Revel

A WAY from the revel! the night-star is up;
Away, come away, there is strife in the cup!
There is shouting of song, there is wine in the bowl,
But listen and drink, they will madden thy soul!

The foam of the goblet is sparkling and bright,
Rising like gems in the torches' red light;
But the glance of thine eye, if it lingers there,
Will change its mild beam for the maniac's glare.

The pearl-studded chalice, displaying in pride,
May challenge thy lip to the purple draught's tide;
But the pearl of the dew-drop, the voice of the breeze,
Are dearer, and calmer, more blessed than these.

Oh! come, it is twilight; the night-star is up;
Its ray is more bright than the silver-rimmed cup;
The boat gently dances, the snowy sail fills,
We'll glide o'er the waters, or rove on the hills.

We'll kneel on the mountain, beneath the dark pine;
Our hearts' prayer the incense, and nature the shrine;
Back on the festal we'll look from the wave,
As the eye of the free on the chains of the slave!

Oh! come, it is twilight; the moon is awake;
The breath of the vesper-chime rides o'er the lake;
There is peace all around us, and health in the breeze,
And what can be dearer, more blessed than these?
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