Praise who will the duller liquor
Juice of Portugal or Spain;
Fill for me with lighter—quicker—
Fill for me with Rose Champagne.
See the glass its foam upgiving,
Creaming—beading—round the brim,
Such, were old Anacreon living,
Such should be the wine for him!
Elixir blest! Bacchus and Flora,
'Twas He proposed—She smiled compliance—
Thee—a spell for mortal sorrow,