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WHEN I drink of wine, in gladness
Calls my heart upon the Muses;
To the sea-drenched blasts care flinging,
And the weary meditations.
When I drink of wine, then Bacchus
In the morning air flower-scented,
With the wine-drop sparkling, shakes me,
He the sportive, merry Bacchus.
When I drink of wine, with flowers
Into garlands woven, crowned,
Of a lifetime passed in quiet
And repose, sing I the praises.
When I drink of wine, my body
With the sweet myrrh oil I moisten,
And I sing of Love, while clasping
In my curving arms a maiden.
When I drink of wine, this only
Is the booty which I gather;
This I take, and soon shall vanish,
For the end Death is of all things.
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