That greets "the foaming grape of eastern France."
E'en in that pass whereat the boldest blench,
The "aching time" will quickly turn to bliss,
When, having borne the devastating wrench,
I hear you murmur, "Rinse your mouth with this."
I thank you, Dr. Wallace, for that word;
My teeth, I'm sure, require attention soon;
Ah! Widow Clicquot, how my heart is stirred!
Appointment? Right. To-morrow afternoon.