Classic Poem

Let us eat and drink, for tomorrow—
We die.
Let us eat and drink. Wherefore borrow
From griefs that will never come nigh?
Spread the feast, pour the wine,
Wreathe the brows with rose-twine,
Woo the harp into pulses of passion divine.
Remember how soon
The belfry's dull rune
Shall summon us hence from our comrades boon.
Then deaf to their cry,
Unheeding the tears of this sorrow,
How low we shall lie!
Then, eat and drink, for tomorrow—
We die.

Let us love and laugh, for tomorrow—
We die.
Let us love and laugh. Why should Sorrow
Kill Feeling so soon with a sigh?
Laugh and love, love and laugh.
Who mourns lives but half.
Life's joy is the grain, its grief is the chaff.
Rejoice while we may,
For December's dark day
Swift spurs with his scythe our first fancies away,
And the tear-clouds on high
From seas of new anguish will borrow
To darken thine eye.
Then love and laugh, for tomorrow—
We die.

Let us clasp and kiss, for tomorrow—
We die.
Let us clasp and kiss. How can Sorrow
Endure, while sweet Love stands by?
Why live we so far,
When passion's white star
Draws close these two hearts that confederate are?
Let our souls mix and flow
And our quick kisses go,
While these breasts are like fire-buds, these brows are of snow.
Pluck the sweets that are nigh.
Life's our own, not a treasure we borrow
From Gods in the sky.
Then, clasp and kiss, for tomorrow—