On such occasions minds with one consent
Are to the comforts of the body lent;
There was no pause - the wine went quickly round,
Till struggling Fancy was by Bacchus bound;
Wine is to wit as water thrown on fire,
By duly sprinkling both are raised the higher;
Thus largely dealt, the vivid blaze they choke,
And all the genial flame goes off in smoke.”
“But when no more your boards these loads contain,
When wine no more o’erwhelms the labouring brain,