Never, believe me,
Appear the Immortals,
Scarce had I welcomed the Sorrow-beguiler,
Iacchus! but in came Boy Cupid the Smiler;
Lo! Phoebus the Glorious descends from his throne!
They advance, they float in, the Olympians all!
With Divinities fills my
How shall I yield you
Me rather, bright guests! with your wings of upbuoyance
Bear aloft to your homes, to your banquets of joyance,
That the roofs of Olympus may echo my lyre!
Hah! we mount! on their pinions they waft up my soul!
O give me the nectar!
O fill me the bowl!
Give him the nectar!
Pour out for the poet,
Hebe! pour free!
Quicken his eyes with celestial dew,
That Styx the detested no more he may view,
And like one of us Gods may conceit him to be!
Thanks, Hebe! I quaff it! Io Paean, I cry!
The wine of the Immortals
Forbids me to die!
More verses by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
- Lines Written In The Album At Elbingerode, In The Hartz Forest
- On Revisiting The Sea-Shore, After Long Absence, Under Strong Medical Recommendation Not To Bathe
- Fire, Famine, And Slaughter : A War Eclogue
- The Night-Scene : A Dramatic Fragment.
- Imitated From The Welsh