When I was born, br From all the seas of strength Fate filled a chalice, br Saying, This be thy portion, child; this chalice, br Less than a lily's, thou shalt daily draw br From my great arteries; nor less, nor more. br All substances the cunning chemist Time br Melts down into that liquor of my life, br Friends, foes, joys, fortunes, beauty, and disgust, br And whether I am angry or content, br Indebted or insulted, loved or hurt, br All he distils into sidereal wine, br And brims my little cup; heedless, alas! br Of all he sheds how little it will hold, br How much runs over on the desert sands. br If a new muse draw me with splendid ray, br And I uplift myself into her heaven, br The needs of the first sight absorb my blood, br And all the following hours of the day br Drag a ridiculous age. br To-day, when friends approach, and every hour br Brings book or starbright scroll of genius, br The tiny cup will hold not a bead more, br And all the costly liquor runs to waste, br Nor gives the jealous time one diamond drop br So to be husbanded for poorer days.