While the deep hold is tempest-tost,
We'll strain bright nectar from the lees:
For, though our freedom here be lost,
We drink no water on the seas. —C. Merivale.
Alexis. (Book xii. § 1, p. 818; iv. § 59, p. 265, &c.)
You, Sir, a Cyrenean, as I take you,
Look at your sect of desperate voluptuaries;
There's Diodorus—beggary is too good for him—
A vast inheritance in two short years,