Nay draw not yet the cork, my friend,
Draw not at least for me
Nor let into the alien airs
The priceless essence flee —
Draw not yet the cork, as yet, as yet,
Ah no, no, no, not yet.

A time shall come that is not now,
We wait for and shall see;
What now is kept shall then be spent
And will not wasted be
Upon a time that is not yet
Ah no, no, no, not yet.

The joy, the rich exuberance,
The glory, the belief
Were not upon the soul bestowed
To part with for relief —
Ah part with them not yet, not yet,
Ah no, no, no, not yet.

For they shall come that are not now,
We know, though do not see;
On them the treasure shall be spent
And spent, renewed shall be —
On them that are not yet, not yet,
Ah no, no, no, not yet.