TENANTS of yon hallowed fane!
  Let me your devotions share:
There unceasing raptures reign—
  None are ever sober there.

Crowded gardens, festive bowers,
  Ne’er shall claim a thought of mine:
You can give in Khabbet's towers—
  Purer joys and brighter wine.

Though your pallid faces prove
  How you nightly vigils keep,
’Tis but that you ever love
  Flowing goblets more than sleep.

Though your eyeballs, dim and sunk,
  Stream in penitential guise,
’Tis but that the Hine you've drunk
  Bubbles over from your eyes.