Poem by Thomas Moore

From “Irish Melodies”. 101. Quick! We Have But a Second

QUICK! we have but a second,
      Fill round the cup while you may;
For time, the churl, hath beckon’d,
      And we must away, away!
Grasp the pleasure that’s flying,
      For oh, not Orpheus’ strain
Could keep sweet hours from dying,
      Or charm them to life again.
Then, quick! we have but a second,
      Fill round the cup while you may!
For Time, the churl hath beckon’d,
      And we must away, away.

See the glass, how it flushes,
      Like some young Hebe’s lip,
And half meets thine, and blushes
      That thou shouldst delay to sip.
Shame, oh shame unto thee,
      If ever thou see’st that day,
When a cup or lip shall woo thee,
      And turn untouch’d away!
Then, quick! we have but a second,
      Fill round, fill round while you may,
For Time, the churl, hath beckon’d,
      And we must away, away!

1. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 54
2. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 52
3. From “Irish Melodies”. 114. I’ve a Secret to Tell Thee
4. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 56
5. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 38

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