screws. 
Old useless furnitures, yet stand ye here,
Because my sire ye served, now dead and gone. 
Old scroll, the smoke of years dost wear,
So long as o’er this desk the sorry lamp hath shone. 
Better my little means hath squandered quite away
Than burden’d by that little here to sweat and groan! 
Wouldst thou possess thy heritage, essay
By use to render it thine own! 
What we employ not but impedes our way;
That which the hour creates, that can it use alone!

But wherefore to yon spot is riveted my gaze? 
Is yonder flasket there a magnet to my sight? 
Whence this mild radiance that around me plays,
As when, ’mid forest gloom, reigneth the moon’s soft light? 
Hail, precious phial!  Thee, with reverent awe,
Down from thine old receptacle I draw! 
Science in thee I hail and human art.

Essence of deadliest powers, refin’d and sure,
Of soothing anodynes abstraction pure,
Now in thy master’s need thy grace impart! 
I gaze on thee, my pain is lull’d to rest;
I grasp thee, calm’d the tumult in my breast;
The flood-tide of my spirit ebbs away;
Onward I’m summon’d o’er a boundless main,
Calm at my feet expands the glassy plain,
To shores unknown allures a brighter day.

Lo, where a car of fire, on airy pinion,
Comes floating towards me!  I’m prepar’d to fly
By a new track through ether’s wide dominion,
To distant spheres of pure activity. 
This life intense, this godlike ecstasy—­
Worm that thou art such rapture canst thou earn! 
Only resolve, with courage stern and high,
Thy visage from the radiant sun to turn! 
Dare with determin’d will to burst the portals
Past which in terror others fain would steal! 
Now is the time, through deeds, to show that mortals
The calm sublimity of gods can feel;
To shudder not at yonder dark abyss
Where phantasy creates her own self-torturing brood;
Right onward to the yawning gulf to press,
Around whose narrow jaws rolleth hell’s fiery flood;
With glad resolve to take the fatal leap,
Though danger threaten thee, to sink in endless sleep!

Pure crystal goblet! forth I draw thee now
From out thine antiquated case, where thou
Forgotten hast reposed for many a year! 
Oft at my father’s revels thou didst shine;
To glad the earnest guests was thine,
As each to other passed the generous cheer. 
The gorgeous brede of figures, quaintly wrought,
Which he who quaff’d must first in rhyme expound,
Then drain the goblet at one draught profound,
Hath nights of boyhood to fond memory brought. 
I to my neighbor shall not reach thee now,
Nor on thy rich device shall I my cunning show. 
Here is a juice, makes drunk without delay;
Its dark brown flood thy crystal round doth fill;
Let this last draught, the product of my skill,
My own free choice, be quaff’d with resolute will,
A solemn festive greeting, to the coming day!
           [He places the goblet to his mouth.]