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Wine makes all sorts of creatures at table.
Wine makes all sorts of creatures at table.
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.
Old Simon the cellarer keep a rare store
Of Malmsey and Malvoisie.
Old Simon the cellarer keep a rare store
Of Malmsey and Malvoisie.
The wine in the bottell doth not quench thirst.
[The wine in the bottle does not quench thirst.]
The wine in the bottell doth not quench thirst.
[The wine in the bottle does not quench thirst.]
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.
I said, I will go up to the palm tree, I will take hold of the
boughs thereof; now read more
I said, I will go up to the palm tree, I will take hold of the
boughs thereof; now also thy breasts shall be as clusters of the
vine, and the smell of thy nose like apples;
And the roof of thy mouth like the best wine for my beloved, that
goeth down sweetly, causing the lips of those that are asleep to
speak.
Wine is a mocker, strong drink is raging: and whoever is
deceived thereby is not wise.
Wine is a mocker, strong drink is raging: and whoever is
deceived thereby is not wise.
Ten thousand casks,
Forever dribbling out their base contents,
Touch'd by the Midas finger of the state,
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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!
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.