If Temperance chaps wont suffer wine
Nor gin t’ inspire the maudlin nine,
Some verse by critics dubb’d divine
Will seem almost as flat as mine.
Horace says dulce est desipere,[23]
Drink till your way home’s rather slippery,
But don’t indulge in gross ebriety,
Save in the very best society.
The lower orders too, we think,
Unless addicted to strong drink,