Rinaldo

Bring me a cup of good red wine   To drink before I die; Though earthly joys I must resign,   I ’ll breathe no earthly sigh. I ’ve lived a bold and robber life,   I ’ve had on earth my way, For with the gun or with the knife,   I made mankind obey. My mother’s name, my father’s race,   Though he was false, she true, It matters not—they sleep in peace.   What more can I or you? They sleep in peace, though swords flashed wild   Around my infant head, And I was left an orphan child,   An outcast’s path to tread. Men are but grapes upon the vine;   My vine was planted where Nor hand did tend, nor warm sun shine,   And mildew filled the air. I was a robber brave and bold.   I did not, in the mart, Lie, cheat, and steal with purpose cold.   Mine was too frank a heart. All men are robbers,—all who win,   And get more than their due; Though solemn phrases veil the sin,   The thief’s eye glances through. The world denied me gold and land,   And love which all men crave; I took the first with strong right hand,   The last I left a slave. And though the tiger ’s caged at length,—   Who made him such God knows,— He can but fail who measures strength   Against a world of foes. Then bring a cup of rich red wine   Before the bell tolls three, For better men than I and mine   Have died upon the tree.