To A Jar Of Wine

O gracious jar,--my friend, my twin, Born at the time when I was born,-- Whether tomfoolery you inspire Or animate with love's desire, Or flame the soul with bitter scorn, Or lull to sleep, O jar of mine! Come from your place this festal day; Corvinus hither wends his way, And there's demand for wine! Corvinus is the sort of man Who dotes on tedious argument. An advocate, his ponderous pate Is full of Blackstone and of Kent; Yet not insensible is he, O genial Massic flood! to thee. Why, even Cato used to take A modest, surreptitious nip At meal-times for his stomach's sake, Or to forefend la grippe. How dost thou melt the stoniest hearts, And bare the cruel knave's design; How through thy fascinating arts We discount Hope, O gracious wine! And passing rich the poor man feels As through his veins thy affluence steals. Now, prithee, make us frisk and sing, And plot full many a naughty plot With damsels fair--nor shall we care Whether school keeps or not! And whilst thy charms hold out to burn We shall not deign to go to bed, But we shall paint creation red; So, fill, sweet wine, this friend of mine,-- My lawyer friend, as aforesaid.