The sea drinks the air and the sun the sea.
Ah, cruel 'tis to love, And cruel not to love, But cruelest of all To love and love in vain.
Thus, while I quaff the genial wine, I live mid transports quite divine.
Let others seek renown in arms; For me wine's wars have greater charms: Then fill the bowl, boy; fill it high: 'Tis better drunk, than dead to lie.
Life is like a chariot-wheel that ever rolls along.
I both love and do not love; and am mad and not mad.