Bacchanalia or A Description of a Drunken Club. A Poem [by Charles Darby] |
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Bacchanalia | ||
Some down into their Seats do shrink,
As snuffs in Sockets sink;
Some throw themselves upon the Bed,
Some at Feet, and some at Head,
Some Cross, some Slope-wise, as they can;
Like Hogs in straw, or Herrings in a pan.
Some on the Floor do make their humble Bed,
(Proper effect of Wine!)
So over-laden Vine,
Prop failing, bowes its bunchy Head,
To kiss the Ground, from whence 'twas nourished.
One, stouter than the rest, maintain'd the Field,
And scorn'd to yield.
A Roman Emperour, standing, vow'd to die;
And so, quoth he, will I:
Till nodding, as he stood, the Churlish Wall
Repuls'd his Head, and made him, reeling fall;
So, with a jot.
Embrac'd the common lot,
The last, but yet the greatest, Trophy, of them all.
As snuffs in Sockets sink;
Some throw themselves upon the Bed,
Some at Feet, and some at Head,
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Like Hogs in straw, or Herrings in a pan.
Some on the Floor do make their humble Bed,
(Proper effect of Wine!)
So over-laden Vine,
Prop failing, bowes its bunchy Head,
To kiss the Ground, from whence 'twas nourished.
One, stouter than the rest, maintain'd the Field,
And scorn'd to yield.
A Roman Emperour, standing, vow'd to die;
And so, quoth he, will I:
Till nodding, as he stood, the Churlish Wall
Repuls'd his Head, and made him, reeling fall;
So, with a jot.
Embrac'd the common lot,
The last, but yet the greatest, Trophy, of them all.
Bacchanalia | ||