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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.
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.
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.
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.
A medium Vodka dry Martini--with a slice of lemon peel. Shaken
and not stirred.
A medium Vodka dry Martini--with a slice of lemon peel. Shaken
and not stirred.
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.
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.
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.
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.