Drunkenness is nothing but voluntary madness.
[Lat., Nihil aliud est ebrietas quam voluntaria insania.]

Drunkenness is nothing but voluntary madness.
[Lat., Nihil aliud est ebrietas quam voluntaria insania.]

Touch the goblet no more!
It will make thy heart sore
To its very core!

Touch the goblet no more!
It will make thy heart sore
To its very core!

Soon as the potion works, their human count'nance,
Th' express resemblance of the gods, is chang'd
Into read more

Soon as the potion works, their human count'nance,
Th' express resemblance of the gods, is chang'd
Into some bruitish form of wolf or bear,
Or ounce or tiger, hog, or bearded goat,
All other parts remaining as they were;
And they, so perfect in their misery,
Not once perceive their foul disfigurement.

I remember a mass of things, but nothing distinctly; a quarrel,
but nothing wherefore. O God, that men should read more

I remember a mass of things, but nothing distinctly; a quarrel,
but nothing wherefore. O God, that men should put an enemy in
their mouths to steal away their brains! that we should with
joy, pleasance, revel, and applause transform ourselves into
beasts!

Gloriously drunk, obey the important call.

Gloriously drunk, obey the important call.

All learned, and all drunk!

All learned, and all drunk!

I told you, sir, they were redhot with drinking;
So full of valor that they smote the air
read more

I told you, sir, they were redhot with drinking;
So full of valor that they smote the air
For breathing in their faces, beat the ground,
For kissing of their feet; yet always bending
Towards their project.

Beware the deadly fumes of that insane elation
Which rises from the cup of mad impiety,
And read more

Beware the deadly fumes of that insane elation
Which rises from the cup of mad impiety,
And go, get drunk with that divine intoxication
Which is more sober far than all sobriety.

Man, being reasonable, must get drunk;
The best of life is but intoxication:
Glory, the grape, love, read more

Man, being reasonable, must get drunk;
The best of life is but intoxication:
Glory, the grape, love, gold, in these are sunk
The hopes of all men and of every nation;
Without their sap, how branchless were the trunk
Of life's strange tree, so fruitful on occasion:
But to return,--Get very drunk; and when
You wake with headache, you shall see what then.