Come! fill a fresh bumper—for why should we go
logwood
While the nectar still reddens our cups as they flow?
decoction
Pour out the rich juices still bright with the sun,
dye-stuff
Till o'er the brimmed crystal the rubies shall run.
half-ripened apples
The purple-globed clusters their life-dews have bled;
taste sugar of lead
How sweet is the breath of the fragrance they shed!
rank poisons wines!!!
For Summer's last roses lie hid in the wines
stable-boys smoking long-nines
That were garnered by maidens who laughed through the vines,
scowl howl scoff sneer
Then a smile, and a glass, and a toast, and a cheer,
strychnine and whiskey, and ratsbane and beer
For all the good wine, and we've some of it here!
In cellar, in pantry, in attic, in hall,
Down, down with the tyrant that masters us all!
Long live the gay servant that laughs for us all!
Oliver Wendell Holmes.
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