Ha, ha, gods and kings; fill high, one and all;
Drink, drink! shout and drink! mad respond to
Fill fast, and fill full; 'gainst the goblet ne'er
Quaff there, at high tide, to the uttermost
Flood-tide, and soul-tide to the brim!
Who with wine in him fears? who thinks of his
Who sighs to be wise, when wine in him flares?
Water sinks down below, in currents full slow;
But wine mounts on high with its genial glow:--
Welling up, till the brain overflow!
As the spheres, with a roll, some fiery of soul,
Others golden, with music, revolve round the
So let our cups, radiant with many hued wines,
Round and round in groups circle, our Zodiac's
Round reeling, and ringing their chimes!
Then drink, gods and kings; wine merriment
It bounds through the veins; there, jubilant
Let it ebb, then, and flow; wine never grows
Drain down that bright tide at the foam beaded
Fill up, every cup, to the brim!
Herman Melville's Other Poems
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