AN ANCIENT PLEDGE

By Gilbert Parker

Fair be the garden where their loves may dwell,

Safe be the highway where their feet may go;

Rich be the meadows where their hands may toil,

The fountains many where the good wines flow;

Full be their harvest bins with corn and oil,

And quick their hearts all wise delights to know;

To sorrow may their humour be a foil,

Tardy their footsteps to the gate Farewell.

Deep be your cups. Our hearts the gods make light:

Drink, that their joy may never know good-night!