AIR-'Rossen the Beau.'


COME fill up the glass, and tho' never
We tasted of gladness before,
The thought of this moment for ever
Shall gladden the heart to its core:
An isle as we sail o'er life's ocean-
An isle shall this moment remain,
On which we'll look back with emotion,
And long to salute it again!

Chorus-Come fill up the glass, etc.

Let the miser exult in his treasure;
The king in his sceptre and crown;
The lover be loved without measure;
The warrior blest with renown;
We envied no mortal his blisses,
When anguish our bosom hath torn;
And tasting such treasure as this is,
We laugh every other to scorn.

Chorus-Come fill up the glass, etc.

Since the life-giving goblet is given,
Man may be oppressed by the day,
But the links of oppression are riven
When night brings its spell into play:
That spell so excelling's united
All other fair spells in its train,
To enjoy which, ho! ho! you're invited
To pass round the goblet again.

Chorus-Come fill up the glass, etc.