So fill'd that they o'erflow the
cup.
The busy sun (and one would guess
By's drunken fiery face no less),
Drinks up the sea, and, when he's done,
The moon and stars drink up the sun.
They drink and dance by their own light,
They drink and revel all the night.
Nothing in nature's sober found,

FESTIVE SONGS.

FESTIVE SONGS.

I.

WALTER MAPES' CELEBRATED CONVIVIAL SONG.

Twelfth Century.

(From Croke, on Rhyming Latin Verse, pp. 100-1.)

MIHI est propositum in tabernâ mori,

Vinum sit appositum morientis ori,

Ut dicant, cum venerint Angelorum chori, "Deus sit propitius huic potatori.”

Poculis accenditur animi lucerna,
Cor imbutum nectare volat ad superna,
Mihi sapit dulcius vinum in tabernâ
Quam quod aquâ miscuit præsulis pincerna.

Suum cuique proprium dat natura munus.
Ego nunquam potui scribere jejunus;
Me jejunum vincere posset puer unus,
Sitim et jejunium odi tanquam funus.

B