Of what avail is fortune unenjoy'd?
Or what is life, in anxious hours employ'd?
Let the dull miser pine with niggard care,
And brood o'er gold devoted to his heir:
While we in honest mirth send time away,
Regardless what severer Sages say.
In chearful minds unbidden joys arise,
And well-tim'd levities become the wise.
What virtue does not generous Wine impart?
It gives a winning frankness to the heart;
With sprightly hope the drooping spirits arms;
Awakens Love, and brightens Beauty's charms;
High, florid thoughts th' inspiring juices breed;
Spleen they dispell, and clear the brow of need.
"A peculiar anthologic maze, an amusing literary chaos, a farrago of quotations, a mere olla podrida of quaintness, a pot pourri of pleasant delites, a florilegium of elegant extracts, a tangled fardel of old-world flowers of thought, a faggot of odd fancies, quips, facetiae, loosely tied" (Holbrook Jackson, Anatomy of Bibliomania) by a "laudator temporis acti," a "praiser of time past" (Horace, Ars Poetica 173).
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Thursday, December 15, 2011
Well-Tim'd Levities Become the Wise
Leonard Welsted (1688-1747), The Invitation, lines 23-36: