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All learned, and all drunk!
All learned, and all drunk!
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!
Gloriously drunk, obey the important call.
Gloriously drunk, obey the important call.
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.
Then hasten to be drunk, the business of the day.
Then hasten to be drunk, the business of the day.
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.]
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.
Ha! see where the wild-blazing Grog-Shop appears,
As the red waves of wretchedness swell,
How it burns read more
Ha! see where the wild-blazing Grog-Shop appears,
As the red waves of wretchedness swell,
How it burns on the edge of tempestuous years
The horrible Light-House of Hell!
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.