Ten thousand casks,
Forever dribbling out their base contents,
Touch'd by the Midas finger of the state,
read more

Ten thousand casks,
Forever dribbling out their base contents,
Touch'd by the Midas finger of the state,
Bleed gold for ministers to sport away.
Drink, and be mad then; 'tis your country bids!

"It wasn't the wine," murmured Mr. Snodgrass in a broken voice,
"it was the salmon."

"It wasn't the wine," murmured Mr. Snodgrass in a broken voice,
"it was the salmon."

Few things surpass old wine; and they may preach
Who please, the more because they preach in vain,--
read more

Few things surpass old wine; and they may preach
Who please, the more because they preach in vain,--
Let us have wine and women, mirth and laughter,
Sermons and soda-water the day after.

He causeth the grass to grow for the cattle, and herb for the
service of man: that he may read more

He causeth the grass to grow for the cattle, and herb for the
service of man: that he may bring forth food out of the earth;
And wine that maketh glad the heart of man, and oil to make his
face to shine, and bread which strengtheneth man's heart.

Look not thou upon the wine when it is red, when it giveth his
colour in the cup, when read more

Look not thou upon the wine when it is red, when it giveth his
colour in the cup, when it moveth itself aright.
At the last it biteth like a serpent, and stingeth like an adder.

Where the drink goes in, there the wit goes out.

Where the drink goes in, there the wit goes out.

Bring me wine, but wine which never grew
In the belly of the grape,
Or grew on read more

Bring me wine, but wine which never grew
In the belly of the grape,
Or grew on vine whose tap-roots, reaching through
Under the Andes to the Cape,
Suffered no savor of the earth to escape.

So Noah, when he anchor'd safe on
The mountain's top, his lofty haven,
And all the passengers read more

So Noah, when he anchor'd safe on
The mountain's top, his lofty haven,
And all the passengers he bore
Were on the new world set ashore,
He made it next his chief design
To plant and propagate a vine,
Which since has overwhelm'd and drown'd
Far greater number, on dry ground,
Of wretched mankind, one by one,
Than all the flood before had done.

I hang no ivie out to sell my wine;
The nectar of good wits will sell itself.

I hang no ivie out to sell my wine;
The nectar of good wits will sell itself.