Bacchus, god of mirth and wine,
Lo! I bend before thy shrine,
Lo! I bend before thy shrine.
Fill the goblet, fill it up,
Let me drain the juicy cup.
Fit libations let me pour,
Never shed it on the floor,
Never shed it on the floor.
Joy, oh joy! my soul's inspired,
I burn, with attic flame I'm fired,
I burn, with attic flame I'm fired.
Poetic fervour fills each part,
it rages in my head, my heart.
My spirits rise, my cares are drown'd, 
My spirits rise, my cares are drown'd,
Hurrah, hurrah, hurrah! the world goes round.

What avails the marble fane,
Impotent and idle vain,
Impotent and idle vain.
Hence with sorrow, hence with care,
Hence with grim and dark despair.
Wake the echoes to our lay,
Bacchus is our theme today,
Bacchus is our theme today.
Joy, oh joy! my soul's inspired,
I burn, with attic flame I'm fired,
I burn, with attic flame I'm fired.
Poetic fervour fills each part,
it rages in my head, my heart.
My spirits rise, my cares are drown'd, 
My spirits rise, my cares are drown'd,
Hurrah, hurrah, hurrah! the world goes round.

Round my head ye virgins twine,
Circling branches of the vine,
Circling clusters of the vine.
Branches with clusters nod,
Clusters worthy of the god.
Which shall o'er my hair diffuse,
Richer than Arabian dews,
Richer than Arabian dews.
Joy, oh joy! my soul's inspired,
I burn, with attic flame I'm fired,
I burn, with attic flame I'm fired.
Poetic fervour fills each part,
it rages in my head, my heart.
My spirits rise, my cares are drown'd, 
My spirits rise, my cares are drown'd,
Hurrah, hurrah, hurrah! the world goes round.