Make the coming hour o'erflow with joy,

And pleasure drown the brim.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): All's Well that Ends Well. Act ii. Sc. 4.

Years steal

Fire from the mind as vigour from the limb,

And life's enchanted cup but sparkles near the brim.

Lord Byron 1788-1824: Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iii. Stanza 8.

The Quaker loves an ample brim,

A hat that bows to no salaam;

And dear the beaver is to him

As if it never made a dam.

Thomas Hood (1798-1845): All round my Hat.