Hail, High Excess Especially In Wine, To Thee In Worship Do I Bend The Knee Who Preach Abstemiousness Unto Me My Skull Thy Pulpit, As My Paunch Thy Shrine. Precept On Precept, Aye, And Line On Line, Could Ne'er Persuade So Sweetly To Agree With Reason As Thy Touch, Exact And Free, Upon My Forehead And Along My Spine. At Thy Command Eschewing Pleasure's Cup, With The Hot Grape I Warm No More My Wit; When On Thy Stool Of Penitence I Sit I'm Quite Converted, For I Can't Get Up. Ungrateful He Who Afterward Would Falter To Make New Sacrifices At Thine Altar!
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Hail, High Excess Especially In Wine, To
Ambrose Bierce
Hail, High Excess Especially In Wine, To Thee In Worship Do I Bend The Knee Who Preach Abstemiousness Unto Me My Skull Thy Pulpit, As My Paunch Thy Shrine. Precept On Precept, Aye, And Line On Line, Could Ne'er Persuade So Sweetly To Agree With Reason As Thy Touch, Exact And Free, Upon My Forehead And Along My Spine. At Thy Command Eschewing Pleasure's Cup, With The Hot Grape I Warm No More My Wit; When On Thy Stool Of Penitence I Sit I'm Quite Converted, For I Can't Get Up. Ungrateful He Who Afterward Would Falter To Make New Sacrifices At Thine Altar!
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