Woven in a graceful fashion, mines of thought from ancient lore.
Burning passions, that consumed me, caused my throbbing heart to swell,
Or, when seized with poet's fancy, I've attempted oft to tell.
But the finest of our fancies very quickly disappear,
If from thoughtfulness we're wakened by the foolish jest or jeer.
White-sleeved waiters can't appreciate thoughts superior to red wine,
And that Act, by one Mackenzie, foeman is to Muses Nine.
In my rev'rie I was shaken, by a hand, and gruffly told
That the hour had just departed, when with safety wine was sold.
From The Modern Athenian, 18th March, 1876.