Who sips the grape, with single blow
Lays the city's rampire low;
Flush'd with the vision of his mind
He acts the monarch o'er mankind.
His bright'ning roofs now gleam on high,
All burnish'd gold and ivory:
Corn-freighted ships from Egypt's shore
Waft to his feet the golden ore:
Thus, while the frenzying draught he sips,
His heart is bounding to his lips.—Elton.