A Drink Is Shorter Than A Tale

I Came Like Water, And Like Wind I Go.

The Thoughtful Soul To Solitude Retires.

I Wonder What The Vintners Buy One Half So Precious As The Stuff They Sell.

You Know How Little While We Have To Stay, And, Once Departed, May Return No More.

Come, Fill The Cup, And In The Fire Of Spring The Winter Garment Of Repentance Fling: The Bird Of Time Has But A Little Way To Fly-and Lo! The Bird Is On The Wing.