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.