By the gaily circling glass/By the Gaily Circling Glass

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BY THE GAILY CIRCLING ⟨GLASS⟩

By the gaily circling glass,
⁠We can see how minutes pass,
By the hollow flask we’re told,
⁠How the waning night grows old.
Soon, too soon, the busy day
⁠Drives us from our sport away;
What have we with day to do?
⁠Sons of care, ’twas made for you.

By the silence of the owl,
⁠By the chirping of the thorn,
By the butts that empty roll,
⁠We foretell th’approach of morn.
Fill, then fill the vacant glass,
⁠Let no precious moment slip;
Flout the moralizing ass;
⁠Joys find entrance at the lip.

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