XXIV.

Ah, make the most of what we yet may spend, Before we too into the Dust descend; Dust into Dust, and under Dust to lie, Sans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer, and--sans End!

The inspiration for this quatrain is found in the following (O. 76 and 35).

Do not allow sorrow to embrace thee, Nor an idle grief to occupy thy days, Forsake not the book and the lover's lips and the green bank of the field, Ere that the earth enfold thee in its bosom.

_Ref._: O. 76, C. 173, L. 315, B. 311, P. 189, B. ii. 233, T. 121, P. v. 39.--de T. 9, V. 317.

Drink wine, for thou wilt sleep long beneath the clay Without an intimate, a friend, a comrade, or a mate.

_Ref._: O. 35, C. 80, L. 188, B. 185, P. 284, T. 60.--W. 107, V. 184.