| William Stanley Braithwaite, ed. The Book of Georgian Verse. 1909. | | | | Banish Sorrow | | By George Ogle (1742–1814) |
| | | BANISH sorrow, grief’s a folly, | |
| Thought, unbend thy wrinkled brow; | |
| Hence dull care and melancholy, | |
| Mirth and wine invite us now. | |
| Bacchus empties all his treasure; | 5 |
| Comus gives us mirth and song; | |
| Follow, follow, follow, follow, | |
| Follow, follow pleasure— | |
| Let us join the jovial throng. | |
| |
| Youth soon flies, ’tis but a season; | 10 |
| Time is ever on the wing; | |
| Let’s the present moment seize on, | |
| Who knows what the next may bring? | |
| All our days by mirth we measure; | |
| Other wisdom we despise; | 15 |
| Follow, follow, follow, follow, | |
| Follow, follow pleasure— | |
| To be happy’s to be wise. | |
| |
| Why should therefore care perplex us? | |
| Why should we not merry be? | 20 |
| While we’re here, there’s nought to vex us, | |
| Drinking sets from cares all free; | |
| Let’s have drinking without measure; | |
| Let’s have mirth while time we have; | |
| Follow, follow, follow, follow, | 25 |
| Follow, follow pleasure— | |
| There’s no drinking in the grave. | | | | |
|
|
