Sunday, September 2, 2007

Some Poetry

I believe it says in the Bible that drink maketh the heart of man merry, and who I am I to argue with such an august book? So to keep us merry, here are some poems... O, for a draught of vintage! that hath been Cool'd a long age in the deep-delv'd earth, Tasting of Flora and the country-green, Dance, and Provencal song, and sunburnt mirth! Oh, for a beaker of the warm South, Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene, With beaded bubbles winking at the brim, And purple-stained mouth; That I might drink and leave the world unseen, And with thee fade away into the forest dim. John Keats ____________________________ Not drunk is he who from the floor Can rise alone and still drink more; But drunk is he who prostrate lies Without the power to move or rise. Thomas Love Peacock (English author) (1785-1866) ________________________________ But if at the Church they would give us some ale, And a pleasant fire our souls to regale, We'd sing and we'd pray all the live-long day, And never once wish from the Church to stray. Author unknown


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