Lord Byron

I would to heaven that I were so much clay,

As I am blood, bone, marrow, passion, feeling -

Because at least the past were passed away -

And for the future - (but I write this reeling,

Having got drunk exceedingly today,

So that I seem to stand upon the ceiling)
I say - the future is a serious matter -

And so - for God's sake - hock and soda water!