58 / 72
1
.
58
rug
UP.TO.DATE
BA1z.r1:NnERs’.<;U1nE
i
g
I
Friend of
mysoul.
this goblet
sip~—-.
’Twill
chase
away
the
pensive tear;
’Tis
not
as
sweet
as
woman’a lip.
But.
O!
’tis more sincere.
Then
to this
flowing bowl
did
I
adjourn.
My
lip
the
secret
well
of
life
to learn;
And
lip
to
lip it murrnur’d—
“While
you live.
Drink!—“for once
dead.
you never shall
return.”
—Omar
Khayyam.
\/Vhile we live let
us
live in clover.
For
when we’re
dead
we’re
dead
all over.
“Happy
days.”
“Set
’e1n
up
again.”
IF
I
SHOULD DIE.
.
If
I
should
die
tonight
:
And
you should
come to
my
cold
corpse and say.
VVeeping and
heartsick
o’er my
lifeless
clay.—
And
you should
come
in
deepest
grief
and
woe—
And
say.
“Here’s
that
ten
dollars
that
I
owe.”
I
might arise in my large.
white cravaL
And
say.
“What’s
that?”