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I EAT thou and drink; to-morrow thou shalt die. | |
| Surely the earth, that ’s wise being very old, | |
| Needs not our help. Then loose me, love, and hold | |
| Thy sultry hair up from my face; that I | |
| May pour for thee this golden wine, brim-high, | 5 |
| Till round the glass thy fingers glow like gold. | |
| We’ll drown all hours: thy song, while hours are toll’d, | |
| Shall leap, as fountains veil the changing sky. | |
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| Now kiss, and think that there are really those, | |
| My own high-bosom’d beauty, who increase | 10 |
| Vain gold, vain lore, and yet might choose our way! | |
| Through many years they toil; then on a day | |
| They die not,—for their life was death,—but cease; | |
| And round their narrow lips the mould falls close. | |
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II Watch thou and fear; to-morrow thou shalt die. | 15 |
| Or art thou sure thou shalt have time for death? | |
| Is not the day which God’s word promiseth | |
| To come man knows not when? In yonder sky, | |
| Now while we speak, the sun speeds forth: can I | |
| Or thou assure him of his goal? God’s breath | 20 |
| Even at this moment haply quickeneth | |
| The air to a flame; till spirits, always nigh | |
| Though screened and hid, shall walk the daylight here. | |
| And dost thou prate of all that man shall do? | |
| Canst thou, who hast but plagues, presume to be | 25 |
| Glad in his gladness that comes after thee? | |
| Will his strength slay thy worm in Hell? Go to: | |
| Cover thy countenance, and watch, and fear! | |
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III Think thou and act; to-morrow thou shalt die. | |
| Outstretch’d in the sun’s warmth upon the shore, | 30 |
| Thou say’st: ‘Man’s measured path is all gone o’er: | |
| Up all his years, steeply, with strain and sigh, | |
| Man clomb until he touch’d the truth; and I, | |
| Even I, am he whom it was destined for.’ | |
| How should this be? Art thou then so much more | 35 |
| Than they who sow’d, that thou shouldst reap thereby? | |
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| Nay, come up hither. From this wave-wash’d mound | |
| Unto the furthest flood-brim look with me; | |
| Then reach on with thy thought till it be drown’d. | |
| Miles and miles distant though the last line be, | 40 |
| And though thy soul sail leagues and leagues beyond,— | |
| Still, leagues beyond those leagues, there is more sea. | |
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