MORTIMER COLLINS.
ODE FOR A SOCIAL MEETING. WITH SLIGHT ALTERATIONS BY A TEETOTALLER.
Come! fill a fresh bumper,—for why should we go
logwood While the nectar still reddens our cups as they flow?
decoction Pour out the rich juices still bright with the sun,
dye-stuff Till o'er the brimmed crystal the rubies shall run.
half-ripened apples The purple-globed clusters their life-dews have bled;
taste sugar of lead How sweet is the breath of the fragrance they shed!
rank-poisons wines!!! For summer's last roses lie hid in the wines
stable-boys smoking long-nines That were garnered by maidens who laughed through the vines.