Page:Cyder - a poem in two books (1708).djvu/83

76 Discharge their mellow Burthens, let them thank Boon Nature, that thus annually supplies Their Vaults, and with her former Liquid Gifts Exhilerate their languid Minds, within The Golden Mean confin'd: Beyond, there's naught Of Health, or Pleasure. Therefore, when thy Heart Dilates with fervent Joys, and eager Soul Prompts to persue the sparkling Glass, be sure 'Tis time to shun it; if thou wilt prolong Dire Compotation, forthwith Reason quits Her Empire to Confusion, and Misrule, And vain Debates; then twenty Tongues at once Conspire in senseless Jargon, naught is heard But Din, and various Clamour, and mad Rant: Distrust, and Jealousie to these succeed, And anger-kindling Taunt, the certain Bane Of well-knit Fellowship. Now horrid Frays Commence, the brimming Glasses now are hurl'd   Rh