Quaff The Glass, The Wine Is Red, And The Rose Of Youth Is Glowing, While The Toils Of Life Are Fled And The Snows Of Age Are Going; Quaff It With A Hearty Will, Quaff It Deep And Quaff Forever; Wine Will Every Sorrow Kill, And Destroy The Pleasures Never. When The Heart Beats Sad And Low, Drink Its Gladness Like A River; When The Soul Is Weak With Woe, Quaff And Be A Cheerful Liver; Never, Never, Life, Despair, While A Cup Of Hope Is Nigh Thee; Bend Not Under Loads Of Care While The Fount Of Joy Is By Thee! If The Fickle Friendships End And Thy Fortune Be A Sad One, Claim, O, Claim, As Truest Friend, Ruby Wine, The Sweet And Glad One! If Thy Love Hath Proven Cold, Leave Her, Leave Her, For The New One; Wine Is Never False For Gold; Friend To Friend, A Tried And True One! Let The Cynics Curse And Rave; This Must Be A Life Of Pleasure; Fill A Bumper! He's The Knave Who Would Scorn Joy'S Fullest Measure; Quaff The Glass, The Wine Is Red; Hour By Hour The Days Are Going; Wine Is Yet The Fountain Head From Which Pleasure'S Tide Is Flowing