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 And a touch that is sure to enthral it— This soft-stepping Rauzan Margaux.

And the blood of the grape as it lingers Through ruddy and readiest lips, Shall strike, like a song of sweet singers, To the soul of the sitter who sips, Till we rival the topers of story, Till we spurn all the dull and the slow, And our thoughts stalk abroad in their glory, Inspired by the Rauzan Margaux.

For the soul of the Frenchman is in it; This wine is a true child of Gaul; It lifts up your heart like a linnet