Bearing a Vessel on his Shoulder; and
He bid me taste of it; and ’twas—the Grape.
Why, be this Juice the growth of God, who dare
Blaspheme the twisted tendril as a snare?
A Blessing, we should use it, should we not?
And if a Curse—why, then, Who set it there?
YESTERDAY this Day’s Madness did prepare;
TOMORROW’S Silence, Triumph, or Despair:
Drink! for you know not whence you came, nor why:
Drink! for you know not why you go, nor where.