"The Best of Life Is But..."

What is life after all but a dream?
And why should such pother be made?
Better far to be tipsy, I deem,
And doze all day long in the shade.
When I wake and look out on the lawn,
I hear midst the flowers a bird sing;
I ask, "Is it evening or dawn?"
The mango-bird whistles, "'Tis spring."
Overpower'd with the beautiful sight,
Another full goblet I pour.
And would sing till the moon rises bright —
But soon I'm as drunk as before.