The Complete Poems of Paul Laurence Dunbar/The Stirrup Cup

by Paul Laurence Dunbar

THE STIRRUP CUP

Come, drink a stirrup cup with me,
   Before we close our rouse.
You 're all aglow with wine, I know:
   The master of the house,
   Unmindful of our revelry,
   Has drowned the carking devil care,
      And slumbers in his chair.

Come, drink a cup before we start;
   We 've far to ride to-night.
And Death may take the race we make,
   And check our gallant flight:
   But even he must play his part,
   And tho' the look he wears be grim,
   We 'll drink a toast to him!

For Death,—a swift old chap is he,
   And swift the steed He rides.
He needs no chart o'er main or mart,
   For no direction bides.
   So, come, a final, cup with me,
   And let the soldiers' chorus swell,—
   To hell with care, to hell!