  Wine! wine! fill up The sparkling cup With champagne hissing to the brim; For wit, and joy, and rapture, swim In bumpers. The grape's blood is mine; I'll steep my heart in it till it shine With the warm flush The purple blush Of wine! Wine! wine! the frown Of Care we'll drown In deep libations to the God Who planted first on Nysa's sod The branches of the illustrious vine. Bacchus, we worship at thy shrine! In Pleasure's bowers Swift fly the Hours Whose wings are wash'd with wine! Wine! wine! the brow Is mantling now; The eye is flashing with "the flow Of soul," the cheek has caught its glow; The lips are breathing words divine, While wreaths of song around them twine In glorious lays, Chaunting the praise Of racy wine! Wine! wine! fill up And quaff the cup To lovely woman! Drink again To all bold festive souls who drain The crystal bowl, and wear the sign Of bacchanals. Hurrah! we're there, Thou soul of joy! Immortal boy! God of immortal wine! |
|
