ꨄ 𝙻𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑ꨄ

To be drunk with Youth

Oh! To be drunk with the wine of Youth;
to be promised with the comfort of Death,
Sleeping by the sounding seas that soothe,
caressed by sweet seas of thy breath.
All would be the lies that Life had bore.

Oh! To be high on the voices of Joy;
to be drowned by soft kisses of Love,
hid for e'er from pounding fires that destroy,
by songs of lyres and dreamy dove-
all would be lies of Life's pretty lores.

Oh! To be poisoned with the touch of Death-
its blighting clutch pulsing with tangs of blood.
Of broken lyres sounding one last breath,
stood the puddle of Joy's lifeblood-
stolen from her lustrous wings for e'er more-
'Tis be the lies that Life had bore-
for of Sorrow, Life, Joy and Death,
'all are the feathers our wings had bore,'
sounded Life upon his last breath
forever more.