FALK.

Happy songster! Wherefore scare him
From our blossom-laden bower?
Rather for his music spare him
All our future, flower by flower;
Trust me, 'twill be cheaply buying
Present song with future fruit;
List the proverb, "Time is flying;--"
Soon our garden music's mute.

CHORUS.

List the proverb, etc.

FALK.

I will live in song and gladness,--
Then, when every bloom is shed,
Sweep together, scarce in sadness,
All that glory, wan and dead:
Fling the gates wide! Bruise and batter,
Tear and trample, hoof and tusk;
I have plucked the flower, what matter
Who devours the withered husk!

CHORUS.

I have plucked the flower, etc.
[They clink and empty their glasses.