SONG OF THE TWO CUPBEARERS.

Drink of this cup — Osiris sips

The same in his halls below;

And the same he gives, to cool the lips

Of the dead, who downward go.

Drink of this cup — the water within

Is fresh from Lethe's stream;

‘ Twill make the past, with all its sin,

And all its pain and sorrows, seem

Like a long forgotten dream;

The pleasure, whose charms

Are steeped in woe;

The knowledge, that harms

The soul to know;

The hope, that bright

As the lake of the waste,

Allures the sight

And mocks the taste;

The love, that binds

Its innocent wreath,

Where the serpent winds

In venom beneath!—

All that of evil or false, by thee

Hath ever been known or seen,

Shalt melt away in this cup, and be

Forgot as it never had been!