To My Friends

Laugh, my Friends, and without blame     Lightly quit what lightly came:     Rich to-morrow as to-day     Spend as madly as you may.     I, with little land to stir,     Am the exacter labourer.     Ere the parting hour go by,     Quick, thy tablets, Memory!     But my Youth reminds me Thou     Hast livd light as these live now:     As these are, thou too wert such:     Much hast had, hast squanderd much.     Fortunes now less frequent heir,     Ah! I husband whats grown rare.     Ere the parting hour go by,     Quick, thy tablets, Memory!     Young, I said: A face is gone     If too hotly musd upon:     And our best impressions are     Those that do themselves repair.     Many a face I then let by,     Ah! is faded utterly.     Ere the parting hour go by,     Quick, thy tablets, Memory!     Marguerite says: As last year went,     So the coming yearll be spent:     Some day next year, I shall be,     Entering heedless, kissd by thee.     Ah! I hope, yet, once away,     What may chain us, who can say?     Ere the parting hour go by,     Quick, thy tablets, Memory!     Paint that lilac kerchief, bound     Her soft face, her hair around:     Tied under the archest chin     Mockery ever ambushd in.     Let the fluttering fringes streak     All her pale, sweet-rounded cheek.     Ere the parting hour go by,     Quick, thy tablets, Memory!     Paint that figures pliant grace     As she towards me leand her face,     Half refusd and half resignd,     Murmuring, Art thou still unkind?     Many a broken promise then     Was new made, to break again.     Ere the parting hour go by,     Quick, thy tablets, Memory!     Paint those eyes, so blue, so kind,     Eager tell-tales of her mind     Paint, with their impetuous stress     Of inquiring tenderness,     Those frank eyes, where deep doth lie     An angelic gravity.     Ere the parting hour go by,     Quick, thy tablets, Memory!     What, my Friends, these feeble lines     Show, you say, my love declines?     To paint ill as I have done,     Proves forgetfulness begun?     Times gay minions, pleasd you see,     Time, your master, governs me.     Pleasd, you mock the fruitless cry     Quick, thy tablets, Memory!     Ah! too true. Times current strong     Leaves us true to nothing long.     Yet, if little stays with man,     Ah! retain we all we can     If the clear impression dies,     Ah! the dim remembrance prize     Ere the parting hour go by,     Quick, thy tablets, Memory!