For if Tars should swig water by nature
The sea would have never been salt!—
Then off with it into a jorum,
And make it strong, sharpish, or sweet,
For if I’ve any sense of decorum
It never was meant to be neat!—
One day when I was but half sober,—
Half measures I always disdain—
I walk’d into a shop that sold Soda,
And ax’d for some Water Champagne;—