Come Mnemosyne and bring ye daughters true:

'Tis a consummation of sin and pride,

Sweet wine our dying hearts will soon renew,
And song shall dance once more from tipsy tongues!
This Lethe-wards man has drunk too much from Hades:
And dulled away his speech in sweet blasphemy;
Music now bows and stands head o'er heals:
Come let us free it from this agony!