Wreathe the bowl
With flow'rs of soul,
The brightest Wit can find us
We'll take a flight
T'wards heaven tonight,
And leave dull earth behind us!
Should Love amid
The wreathe be hid
That joy, th'enchanter brings us,
No danger fear
While wine is near,
We'll drown him if he stings us.
Then, wreathe the bowl
With flowers of soul,
The brightest Wit can find us
We'll take a flight
T'wards heav'n tonight,
And leave dull earth behind us!

'Twas nectar fed
Of old, 'tis said,
Their Junos, Joves, Apollos,
And man may brew
His nectar too
The rich receipt's as follows:
Take wine like this
Let looks of bliss
Around it will be blended
Then bring Wit's beam
To warm the stream,
And there's your nectar splendid!
So wreathe the bowl
With flowers of soul,
The brightest Wit can find us
We'll take a flight
T'wards heav'n tonight,
And leave dull earth behind us!

Say, why did Time
His glass sublime
Fill up with sands unsightly,
When wine, he knew,
Runs brisker through,
And sparkles far more brightly?
Oh, lend it us,
And, smiling thus,
The glass in two we'd sever,
Make pleasure glide
In double tide,
And fill both ends forever!
Then wreathe the bowl
With flowers of soul,
The brightest Wit can find us
We'll take a flight
T'wards heav'n tonight,
And leave dull earth behind us!"