IMPROMPTU,
TO S—— C—DM—N, ESQ.
IN
ANSWER TO A FRIENDLY NOTE, ACCOMPANYING A QUANTITY
OF CHOICE WINE, SENT TO THE AUTHOR DURING INDISPOSITION.
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DEAR
C.
True,
your wine is as good
As
in goblet e’er stood,
Or enliven’d the soul, or the sense—
The
Falernian juice
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Never
was of more use—
Freeing me from the Paulo Post tense.
For
long time have I been,
Just
lingering between
Life and death, with some Sibyl as grim—
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But
here now, with one sup,
From
the dear liquid cup,
All my spirits shall flow to the brim. [Page
193]
The
Cæcubian draught,
O’er
which Horace oft laughed,
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As sweet
as kind Venus’ nectar,
Never
gave more relief
To
the spirit, where grief
Pressed deep as the woes upon Hector.
E’en
good Cato did sip
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The
loved balm with his lip,
From th’ Amystis, whene’er he should
dine—
Nor
did Phillis do less,
The
Albanian press
Caused her goblet to flow with pure wine.
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I
hope no one will blame
Now
if I do the same—
For our motives and views disagree:
’Twas
fond pleasure they caught—
’Tis
dear health that I’ve sought—
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For
health’s the sweet beverage for me. [Page
194]
Then,
best thanks for your gift,
Which
my spirits shall lift,
And give a new tinge to my feeling—
I
am grateful to say,
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That
I feel now this day
Ev’ry pang of my heart quickly healing. [Page
195]
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