Page:The city of dreadful night - and other poems (IA cityofdreadfulni00thomrich).pdf/128

 Sits long and ariseth drunken, But not with the feast and the wine; He reeleth with his own heart, That great rich Vine.

Drink! drink! open your mouth! This air is as rich as wine; Flowing with balm from the sunny south, And health from the western brine.

Drink! drink! open your mouth! This air is as strong as wine: My brain is drugged with the balm o' the south, And rolls with the western brine.

Drink! drink! open your mouth! This air is the choicest wine; From that golden grape the Sun, i' the south Of Heaven's broad vine.

Could we float thus ever, Floating down a river,