---

Eugene Field - Wine, Women, And Song
Work rating: Low

Ovarus mine,
    Plant thou the vine
Within this kindly soil of Tibur;
    Nor temporal woes,
    Nor spiritual, knows
The man who`s a discreet imbiber.
    For who doth croak
    Of being broke,
Or who of warfare, after drinking?
    With bowl atween us,
    Of smiling Venus
And Bacchus shall we sing, I`m thinking.

    Of symptoms fell
    Which brawls impel,
Historic data give us warning;
    The wretch who fights
    When full, of nights,
Is bound to have a head next morning.
    I do not scorn
    A friendly horn,
But noisy toots, I can`t abide `em!
    Your howling bat
    Is stale and flat
To one who knows, because he`s tried `em!

    The secrets of
    The life I love
(Companionship with girls and toddy)
    I would not drag
    With drunken brag
Into the ken of everybody;
    But in the shade
    Let some coy maid
With smilax wreathe my flagon`s nozzle,
    Then all day long,
    With mirth and song,
Shall I enjoy a quiet sozzle!
Source
The script ran 0.001 seconds.