Soon as the potion works, their human count'nance,
Th' express resemblance of the gods, is chang'd
Into read more

Soon as the potion works, their human count'nance,
Th' express resemblance of the gods, is chang'd
Into some bruitish form of wolf or bear,
Or ounce or tiger, hog, or bearded goat,
All other parts remaining as they were;
And they, so perfect in their misery,
Not once perceive their foul disfigurement.

Drunkenness is nothing but voluntary madness.
[Lat., Nihil aliud est ebrietas quam voluntaria insania.]

Drunkenness is nothing but voluntary madness.
[Lat., Nihil aliud est ebrietas quam voluntaria insania.]

A sensual and intemperate youth hands over a worn-out body to old
age.
[Lat., Libidinosa etenim et intemperans read more

A sensual and intemperate youth hands over a worn-out body to old
age.
[Lat., Libidinosa etenim et intemperans adolescentia effoetum
corpus tradit senectuti.]

Gloriously drunk, obey the important call.

Gloriously drunk, obey the important call.

. . . 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.

Beware the deadly fumes of that insane elation
Which rises from the cup of mad impiety,
And read more

Beware the deadly fumes of that insane elation
Which rises from the cup of mad impiety,
And go, get drunk with that divine intoxication
Which is more sober far than all sobriety.

He that is drunken . . .
Is outlawed by himself; all kind of ill
Did with read more

He that is drunken . . .
Is outlawed by himself; all kind of ill
Did with his liquor slide into his veins.

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!

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.