Cut off from the land that bore us,Betrayed by the land we find,Where the brightest have gone before us,And the dullest are most behind – Stand, stand to your glasses, steady!’T is all we have left to prize:One cup to the dead already – Hurrah for the next that dies! – Bartholomew Dowling

Cut off from the land that bore us,Betrayed by the land we find,Where the brightest have gone before us,And the dullest are most behind – Stand, stand to your glasses, steady!’T is all we have left to prize:One cup to the dead already – Hurrah for the next that dies! – Bartholomew Dowling.