II

Or when the jocund bowl we pass,

And joke and wit and whim abound,

When song and catch and friend and lass

In sparkling wine we toast around,

When Bull and Pun

Rude riot run,

And finding still the mirth increasing,

Pealing laughter roars sans ceasing,

I peal and roar and pant and say,

Thus let me laugh my life away.

Anna St. Ives · 第 257 / 387 题