O! shun the bowl!-the draught beware,
Whose smile but mocks the lips of men:
When foaming high with waters rare-
O! never touch the goblet then.
With friends we love, though sweet to sip
The nectar'd juice at close of day,
Yet trust ye not the siren lip
That wins to cheat, and lures to slay.
O! shun the bowl, and thou shalt know
A deeper spell than swims in wine;
Though bright its hours of sunset glow,
Their crimson clouds as briefly shine.
A few short days in madness past,
And thou wilt sink unknown to years;
Without a hope beyond the blast,
Which mourns above thy grave of tears.