Thus soars my creative genius
Far on high, while I am drinking.
And when through my brain are rushing
Revelations from the wine-fumes,
And when then my feeble body
Tottering sinks down by the wine-tun,
'Tis the triumph of the spirit,
'Tis the act of self-deliverance
From the narrow bounds of being.
Thus my solitude doth teach me