When the Wine-Cup at the Lip

When the wine-cup at the lip
Slants its ruby fire,
O’er its level, while you sip,
Have you marked the finger-tip
Of the god Desire slip,
Of the god Desire?
Saying--“Lo, the hours run!
Live your day before ’tis done!”

When the empty goblet lies
At the ended revel,
In the glass, the wine-stain dyes,
Have you marked the hollow eyes
Of a mocking Devil rise,
Of a mocking Devil?
Saying--“Lo, the pleasure’s done!
Look on me whose hour’s begun!”