Читать книгу English Poets of the Eighteenth Century - Various - Страница 33

I'd have a little cellar, cool and neat,

With humming ale and virgin wine replete.

Wine whets the wit, improves its native force,

And gives a pleasant flavour to discourse;

By making all our spirits debonair,

Throws off the lees and sediment of care.

But as the greatest blessing Heaven lends

May be debauched, and serve ignoble ends;

So, but too oft, the grape's refreshing juice

Does many mischievous effects produce.

My house should no such rude disorders know,

As from high drinking consequently flow;

Nor would I use what was so kindly given,

To the dishonour of indulgent Heaven.

If any neighbour came, he should be free,

Used with respect, and not uneasy be,

In my retreat, or to himself or me.

What freedom, prudence, and right reason give,

All men may, with impunity, receive:

But the least swerving from their rules too much,

And what's forbidden us, 'tis death to touch.