Unless thy boiling veins, mad with desire
10Of drink, convert the liquor into fire.
For then thou quaff'st down fevers, thy full bowls
Carouse the burning draughts of Portia's coals.
If it do leap and sparkle in the cup,
'Twill sink thy cares, and help invention up.
There never yet was Muse or Poet known
Not dipt or drenched in this Helicon.
But Tom! take heed thou use it with such care
As witches deal with their familiar.