I Wonder What The Vintners Buy One

A Moment's Halt-a Momentary Taste Of Being From The Well Amid The Waste- And, Lo! The Phantom Caravan Has Reach'd The Nothing It Set Out From. Oh, Make Haste!

Heaven Has Not Learned Of My Arrival, And My Departure Will Not In The Least Diminish It Beauty And Grandeur. I Will Sleep Underground, For Us Ephemeral Mortals, The Only Eternity Is The Moment And Drinking To The Moment Is Better Than Weeping For It.

The Flower That Once Has Blown Forever Dies.

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.

For In And Out, Above, About, Below, 'tis Nothing But A Magic Shadow-show, Played In A Box Whose Candle Is The Sun, Round Which We Phantom Figures Come And Go.