Gypo Logger
Timber Baron
In Praise of Alcohol
(from "Later Collected Verse" page 421)
Of vintage wine I am a lover;
To drink dip would be my delight;
If 'twere not for the bleak hangover
I'd get me loaded every night
I'd whoop it up with song and laughter-
If 'twere not for the morning after.
For though to soberness I'm given
It is a thought I've often thunk:
The nearest that is Earth to heaven
Is to get sublimely drunk;
Is to achieve divine elation
By means of generous libation.
Alas, the wine-cups claim their payment
And as the price is often pain,
If we could sense what morning grey meant
We never would get soused again;
Rather than buy a hob-nailed liver
I'm sure that we'd abstain for ever.
Yet how I love the glow of liquor,
As joyfully I drunk it up!
Hoping that unto life's last flicker
With praise I'll raise the ruby cup;
And let me like a jolly monk
Proceed to get sublimely drunk.
(from "Later Collected Verse" page 421)
Of vintage wine I am a lover;
To drink dip would be my delight;
If 'twere not for the bleak hangover
I'd get me loaded every night
I'd whoop it up with song and laughter-
If 'twere not for the morning after.
For though to soberness I'm given
It is a thought I've often thunk:
The nearest that is Earth to heaven
Is to get sublimely drunk;
Is to achieve divine elation
By means of generous libation.
Alas, the wine-cups claim their payment
And as the price is often pain,
If we could sense what morning grey meant
We never would get soused again;
Rather than buy a hob-nailed liver
I'm sure that we'd abstain for ever.
Yet how I love the glow of liquor,
As joyfully I drunk it up!
Hoping that unto life's last flicker
With praise I'll raise the ruby cup;
And let me like a jolly monk
Proceed to get sublimely drunk.