With such victual before me
I call it a spread;
And such drink—my cosmogony
Knows nought instead.
My tantalized spirit
Here blandly reposes:
The upsetting or ever
’Twas wetting one’s nose is
All over. Sweet spirit!
Thy scent in my nose is.
With such victual before me
I call it a spread;
And such drink—my cosmogony
Knows nought instead.
My tantalized spirit
Here blandly reposes:
The upsetting or ever
’Twas wetting one’s nose is
All over. Sweet spirit!
Thy scent in my nose is.