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Which cheers the sad, revives the old, inspires
The young, makes Weariness forget his toil,
And Fear read more
Which cheers the sad, revives the old, inspires
The young, makes Weariness forget his toil,
And Fear her danger; opens a new world
When this, the present, palls.
The conscious water saw its God and blushed.
- Richard Crashaw,
The conscious water saw its God and blushed.
- Richard Crashaw,
Firm and erect the Caledonian stood;
Sound was his mutton, and his claret good;
"Let him drink read more
Firm and erect the Caledonian stood;
Sound was his mutton, and his claret good;
"Let him drink port!" the English statesman cried:
He drank the poison, and his spirit died.
John Barleycorn was a hero bold,
Of noble enterprise,
For if you do but taste his blood,
read more
John Barleycorn was a hero bold,
Of noble enterprise,
For if you do but taste his blood,
'Twill make your courage rise,
Twill make a man forget his wo;
'Twill heighten all his joy.
Sing! Who sings
To her who weareth a hundred rings?
Ah, who is this lady fine?
read more
Sing! Who sings
To her who weareth a hundred rings?
Ah, who is this lady fine?
The Vine, boys, the Vine!
The mother of the mighty Wine,
A roamer is she
O'er wall and tree
And sometimes very good company.
You cannot know wine by the barrell.
[You cannot know the wine by the barrel.]
You cannot know wine by the barrell.
[You cannot know the wine by the barrel.]
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.
When asked what wines he liked to drink he replied, "That which
belongs to another."
- read more
When asked what wines he liked to drink he replied, "That which
belongs to another."
- Laertius Diogenes,
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.