Hopeless Romantic

Gather ‘round, today's the day

  We'll kill the fatted calf. 

Our fearful tale, the tragic play,

  Shall find its place in jestful drafts.

Gather ‘round, I say! And take

  Your pen—if not, the thyrsus—

The restless urgency to make

  Or sing delirious verses.

Lovers youthful Bacchus follow

  Urgent dreams that shine supernal

From the sunlight of Apollo

  And possessing zeal infernal.

Lovers, though they sing with passion,

  And of lifetimes fill’d with antics,

Ne’er live the dreams they fashion

  From the tales of ol’ Romantics.

Even those, while they once chaunted

 Eros in the Grecian valleys,

Ne’er felt the love they vaunted

 In their ostentatious rallies.

So gather ‘round, forget tomorrow,

 We'll take the consequence of living

For there's no sorrow to be had

 In the young and restless dreaming.