And much as Wine has play'd the Infidel, And robb'd me of my Robe of Honour—well, I often wonder what the Vintners buy One half so precious as the stuff they sell.
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"Indeed, indeed, Repentance oft before I swore – but was I sober when I swore? And then and then came Spring, and Rose-in-hand My impulsive spirit to the wind I threw."
"And that inverted Bowl we call the Sky, Whereunder crawling cooped we live and die, Lift not your hands to It for help – for It As impotently moves as you or I."
"Up from Earth's Centre through the Seventh Gate I rose, and on the Throne of Saturn sate, And many a Knot unravel'd by the Road; But not the Master-knot of Human Fate."
"Drink wine and be merry, for this is all that is left of life."
"Why, if the Soul can fling the Dust aside, And naked on the Air of Heaven ride, Were't not a Shame—were't not a Shame for him In this clay carcase crippled to abide?"
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