Sang hymns of praise to thee.--
Come back to us, bring back the mirth
Thy flowing bowl evoked,
And recreate that joy on earth
With which it once was soaked.
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O Moving Spirit, come ashore
With thy Olympian smile;
Bring back our lost esprit de corps;
And banish gloom and bile.
For we have learned the bitter truth,
Why saints and sinners sigh--
That Heav'n is wet, for Heav'n has ruth,
And only Hell is dry.