. . . And when night
Darkens the streets, then wander forth the sons
Of Belial, flown read more

. . . And when night
Darkens the streets, then wander forth the sons
Of Belial, flown with insolence and wine.

Boundless intemperance
In nature is a tyranny. It hath been
Th' untimely emptying of the happy throne
read more

Boundless intemperance
In nature is a tyranny. It hath been
Th' untimely emptying of the happy throne
And fall of many kings.

O monstrous! but one halfpennyworth of bread to this intolerable
deal of sack!

O monstrous! but one halfpennyworth of bread to this intolerable
deal of sack!

I remember a mass of things, but nothing distinctly; a quarrel,
but nothing wherefore. O God, that men should read more

I remember a mass of things, but nothing distinctly; a quarrel,
but nothing wherefore. O God, that men should put an enemy in
their mouths to steal away their brains! that we should with
joy, pleasance, revel, and applause transform ourselves into
beasts!

Man, being reasonable, must get drunk;
The best of life is but intoxication:
Glory, the grape, love, read more

Man, being reasonable, must get drunk;
The best of life is but intoxication:
Glory, the grape, love, gold, in these are sunk
The hopes of all men and of every nation;
Without their sap, how branchless were the trunk
Of life's strange tree, so fruitful on occasion:
But to return,--Get very drunk; and when
You wake with headache, you shall see what then.

I will ask him for my place again: he shall tell me I am a
drunkard! Had I as read more

I will ask him for my place again: he shall tell me I am a
drunkard! Had I as many mouths as Hydra, such an answer would
stop them all. To be now a sensible man, by and by a fool, and
presently a beast! O strange! Every inordinate cup is unblest,
and the ingredient is a devil.

He calls drunkenness an expression identical with ruin.

He calls drunkenness an expression identical with ruin.

Touch the goblet no more!
It will make thy heart sore
To its very core!

Touch the goblet no more!
It will make thy heart sore
To its very core!

In vain I trusted that the flowing bowl
Would banish sorrow, and enlarge the soul.
To the read more

In vain I trusted that the flowing bowl
Would banish sorrow, and enlarge the soul.
To the late revel, and protracted feast,
Wild dreams succeeded, and disorder'd rest.