And one man in his time takes many quarts,
His drink being seven kinds.—At first the infant,
Taking cordial in the nurse’s arms;
And then, the whining school-boy with his drop
Or two of porter, just to make him creep
More willingly to school.—And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, o’er his lemonade
Brewed into whisky-punch.—Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths, and reeling mad with brandy.
Brutal and beastly, sudden and quick in quarrel,