Drinks of peculiar ferment
Locked in cherished cellar dark,
With dreamy draughts carefully stored.
Thoughts by years through which are cured.
Steeped in splendor drawn from age
Of casks and barrels of finished days;
On sleepy shelves they gleam and shine:
Bottled snippets of borrowed time.

Sorrow's vintage has bitter dregs,
Each firkin of joy though strong is small.
At close of days the larder is full,
But hearth and hall are cold and bare;
Would that the fire roared and shone
And friends we'd warmly welcome home.

Return, companions, come at last!
And draw a keg from times long past,
Of sorrows bitter and old joys sweet
We'll lay them at the Maker's feet.
Laughter, tears, and all we've seen
He will not scorn, He will redeem!
Rejoice, for though the cellar's dark,
The hearth revives with but a spark,
And when the songs have reached their end,
We'll laugh once more among our friends.