You May Also Like / View all maxioms
John Barleycorn was a hero bold,
Of noble enterprise,
For if you do but taste his blood,
read more
John Barleycorn was a hero bold,
Of noble enterprise,
For if you do but taste his blood,
'Twill make your courage rise,
Twill make a man forget his wo;
'Twill heighten all his joy.
Look not thou upon the wine when it is red, when it giveth his
colour in the cup, when read more
Look not thou upon the wine when it is red, when it giveth his
colour in the cup, when it moveth itself aright.
At the last it biteth like a serpent, and stingeth like an adder.
Which cheers the sad, revives the old, inspires
The young, makes Weariness forget his toil,
And Fear read more
Which cheers the sad, revives the old, inspires
The young, makes Weariness forget his toil,
And Fear her danger; opens a new world
When this, the present, palls.
He causeth the grass to grow for the cattle, and herb for the
service of man: that he may read more
He causeth the grass to grow for the cattle, and herb for the
service of man: that he may bring forth food out of the earth;
And wine that maketh glad the heart of man, and oil to make his
face to shine, and bread which strengtheneth man's heart.
Sing! Who sings
To her who weareth a hundred rings?
Ah, who is this lady fine?
read more
Sing! Who sings
To her who weareth a hundred rings?
Ah, who is this lady fine?
The Vine, boys, the Vine!
The mother of the mighty Wine,
A roamer is she
O'er wall and tree
And sometimes very good company.
I said, I will go up to the palm tree, I will take hold of the
boughs thereof; now read more
I said, I will go up to the palm tree, I will take hold of the
boughs thereof; now also thy breasts shall be as clusters of the
vine, and the smell of thy nose like apples;
And the roof of thy mouth like the best wine for my beloved, that
goeth down sweetly, causing the lips of those that are asleep to
speak.
So Noah, when he anchor'd safe on
The mountain's top, his lofty haven,
And all the passengers read more
So Noah, when he anchor'd safe on
The mountain's top, his lofty haven,
And all the passengers he bore
Were on the new world set ashore,
He made it next his chief design
To plant and propagate a vine,
Which since has overwhelm'd and drown'd
Far greater number, on dry ground,
Of wretched mankind, one by one,
Than all the flood before had done.
Ten thousand casks,
Forever dribbling out their base contents,
Touch'd by the Midas finger of the state,
read more
Ten thousand casks,
Forever dribbling out their base contents,
Touch'd by the Midas finger of the state,
Bleed gold for ministers to sport away.
Drink, and be mad then; 'tis your country bids!
Sweet is old wine in bottles, ale in barrels.
Sweet is old wine in bottles, ale in barrels.