Classic Poem

With Falernian, that's old, let the goblet be crown'd;
Bring it hither, sweet boy, be the bitter draught mine!
Ourtoast-mistress, Posthumia, bids bumpers go round;
Whose tight skin, like the grape's, is distended with wine.

O, thou clear fountain-wave, be thou banish'd far hence!
Of the heart-chearing juice thou wert ever the bane;
Go, and drench the morose, who call soberness sense;
Here Thyonian alone, pure Thyonian shall reign!