The felon, with unnatural mixture first 195
Who dar’d to violate the virgin Wine.
Or on the fugitive Champain you pour
A thousand curses; for to heav’n your soul
It rapt, to plunge you deeper in despair.
Perhaps you rue even that divinest gift, 200
The gay, serene, good-natur’d Burgundy,
Or the fresh fragrant vintage of the Rhine:
And with that heaven from mortals had withheld
The grape, and all intoxicating bowls.