Classic Poem

F ASHION'D of various shape, and clay,
I Proteus like, am grave, or gay.
Like Flora now polite and fine,
I with rich, sculptur'd figures shine:
Then in demure apparel clad,
Am like hermiten plain and sad.

My temper too is altogether,
As fickle as the wind or weather:
I'm hot, or cold, am moist, or dry,
In whimsical variety.
Now am inflam'd with boiling rage,
Yet oft' devour much baum and sage,
But herbs which raging fevers tame,
Are but a fuel to my flame;
With such intestine heat I fume,
My exhalations fill the room.
Like Ætna 's gulph my entrails glow,
And with eruptive streams o'erflow.

A N issue often gives me vent,
Or I shou'd burst my tenement.
Others by toping reel, and sink,
But I grow stronger, as I drink;
And when with moisture running o'er,
Am fix'd much firmer than before.
The common liquor which I drink,
Makes women gay, and students think;
My sprightly juice dispells all gloom,
And fills you with ambrosial fume;
'Twill fire the fancy, clear the brain,
And thus my latent name explain.