If I Don't Enjoy Myself Now, When

And This I Know; Whether The One True Light Kindle To Love, Or Wrath Consume Me Quite, One Flash Of It Within The Tavern Caught Better Than In The Temple Lost Outright.

This Body Is A Tent Which For A Space Does The Pure Soul With Kingly Presence Grace; When He Departs, Comes The Tent-pitcher, Death, Strikes It, And Moves To A New Halting-place.

So When That Angel Of The Darker Drink, At Last Shall Find You By The River-brink, And, Offering His Cup, Invite Your Soul Forth To Your Lips To Quaff-you Shall Not Shrink.

We Are Thinking About Bad Only Those Who Are Worse Than We Are, And Those Who Are Better Than Us ... I'm Just Not Up To Us ... One Does Not Follow It Than Smell Roses. Another Of The Bitter Herbs Will Produce Honey. Give Bread To One - Will Remember Forever. Another Life Donation - Do Not Understand.

You Know, My Friends, With What A Brave Carouse I Made A Second Marriage In My House; Favored Old Barren Reason From My Bed, And Took The Daughter Of The Vine To Spouse.