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 “Irish Melodies”. 47. What the Bee Is to the Floweret
2. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 32
3. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 16
4. From “Irish Melodies”. 3. Erin! The Tear and the Smile in Thine Eyes
5. From “Irish Melodies”. 123. From This Hour the Pledge Is Given

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