When Jove's son Bacchus, foe of pain
And sorrow, enters in my brain —
When I with wine am made elate
I careless sport of future fate
Mid laughter, song and revelry.
The heart-uplifting joys of wine
Thrill me with transports quite divine;
Queen Venus and the sounding lyre
Enkindling verve and blithe desire
Fire me to trip it merrily.