A Proem

WE will drink anew of old pleasures ;
In the golden chalice of song
We will pour out the wine-like treasures
Of memories hidden long.

Old memories, hidden but cherished,
In a heart-nook deep and calm ;
They have not faded and perished
Like the old friends they embalm.

We will call them forth from their darkness
As we call forth a rare old wine
Which the long rich years have mellowed
Till the flavour is divine.

In a glorious intoxication
Will we revel while such drink may last ;
And dead to the leaden-houred Present,
Live in golden hours of the Past.