To wait for evening's fall, a foolish plea,
If possible, let the goblet's round begin, free.
If Thou, O Lord, have called a drunk like me,
Then let some magic now, abundantly be.
Expensive is the wine, its price so steep,
Drink it, but sip it slow, secrets to keep.
Drink, but with measure, secrets to sleep,
Expensive is the wine, its price so deep.
In joy or sorrow, the wine weaves its art,
In joy or sorrow, the wine plays its part,
In joy or sorrow, the wine embraces the heart,
A counsel I give, my friend, at the start,
Drink it slow, secrets to sleep,
Expensive is the wine, its price so deep.
To mend the heart's wounds, why this strife?
To live for drink alone, what is life?
To mend the heart's wounds, why this strife?
Burn the soul with wine, it's the knife,
Drink it slow, secrets to sleep,
Expensive is the wine, its price so deep.
The beloved's words, a drunken maze,
Her tresses, a haze, a dream to graze,
Her eyes, a delight, in a golden daze,
More potent than wine, her radiant phase,
Drink it slow, secrets to sleep,
Expensive is the wine, its price so deep,
Drink, but with measure, secrets to keep,
Drink it slow, secrets to sleep,
Drink it slow, secrets to sleep,
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