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.

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.

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.

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.]

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.

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.

Drink no longer water, but use a little wine for thy stomach's
sake and thine often infirmities.

Drink no longer water, but use a little wine for thy stomach's
sake and thine often infirmities.

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.