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 But I do not submit to his authority; And punches—let me see—I know one, two and three, But don't know which should have the priority, But just now, of all the tipples that inspire a lively rhymer, I own a special preference for '68 Hochheimer.

Well the French might want the Rhine, Where they raise this lovely wine! Well the Germans might be stout In such a cause to fight it out! And candid men have aye confessed Poets, whose wine is good, are best.