As leaden as the aftermath of wine

Is the dead mirth of my delirious days;

And as wine waxes strong with age, so weighs

More heavily the past on my decline.

My path is dim. The future’s troubled sea

Foretokens only toil and grief to me.

But oh! my friends, I do not ask to die!

I crave more life, more dreams, more agony!

Midmost the care, the panic, the distress,

I know that I shall taste of happiness.

Once more I shall be drunk on strains divine,

Be moved to tears by musings that are mine;

And haply when the last sad hour draws nigh.

Love with a farewell smile may gild the sky.