Classic Poem

What makes the haughty Spaniards rise in arms,
And France aspiring kindle war's alarms:
While hostile armies in dire conflict join,
And slaughter bath'd in blood defiles the Rhine ?
Ask not, my friend! but with the sprightly bowl
Chear the sad anguish of your drooping soul;
Nor let the prospect of a future ill
Restrain your pleasure, or controul your will.
The blooming beauty of your youth will fly,
As sudden storms o'ercast the clearest sky;
Cold hoary age succeeds with aching pains,
And chills the sprightly blood within your veins:
Then every wanton hope, and gay desire,
Will with declining youth too soon expire;
E'en sleep, that solace to a troubled breast,
Flies from old age, nor lulls its cares to rest.
Fair Henry 's blooming charms too soon will fade,
And waining beauty bring Philander aid;
Tho' wanton love now revels in her eye,
And rash admirers gaze, tho' sure to die.
Check not with thought the gay desires of youth,
In quest of lucre, or in search of truth!
But in high spirits fill the sparkling glass,
And drink a bumper to some fav'rite lass
'Tis wine that dissipates the cares of life,
A perjur'd mistress, or a scolding wife;
A jealous friend, a mean insulting foe,
And every moving circumstance of woe.
What youth will temperate the heated wine,
And make it fit to drink, before we dine?
Or beckon with another harlot's fan
Across the Mall to gay lascivious man?
Nor let the wanton stay to curl her hair,
Decently lewd, and negligently fair;
But let the syren bring her artful lyre,
To raise our passions, and increase their fire.
Thus pleasure shall improve each fleeting hour,
And fix our happiness within our pow'r.