“This vice of excess is no foible of mine,
    Though liking and needing a glass of good wine,
    To help the digestion, to quicken the heart,
    And loosen the tongue for its eloquent part,
    But never once yielding one jot to excess,
    Nor weakly consenting the least to transgress. 
    For let no intolerant bigot pretend
    My Temperance Muse would excuse or defend,
    As Martial or tipsy Anacreon might,
    An orgy of Bacchus, the drunkard’s delight: 
    No! rational use is the sermon I’m preaching,
    Eschewing abuse as the text of my teaching.

    “Old Pindar says slyly, that ‘Water is best;’
    When pure as Bandusia, this may be confest. 
    But water so often is troubled with fleas
    And queer little monsters the microscope sees;
    Is sometimes so muddy, and sometimes so mixt
    With poisons and gases, both fixt and unfixt,
    And seems so connected with juvenile pills—­
    A thought which the mind with unpleasantness fills—­
    That really one asks, is it safe to imbibe
    So freely the live animalcula tribe,
    Unkilled and uncooked with a little wine sauce
    Poured in, or of whisky or brandy a toss—­
    And gulp a cold draught of the colic, instead
    Of something to warm both the heart and the head?

    “That Jotham-first-fable, the bramble and vine,
    Piles up to a climax the praise of good wine;
    For in Judges we read—­look it up, as you can—­
    ‘It cheereth the heart, both of God and of man;’
    And everywhere lightness, and brightness, and health,
    Gild the true temperance texts with their wealth,
    Giving strong drink to the ready to perish,
    And heavy-heartedness joying to cherish.

    “What is wanted—­and let some Good Templar invent it,
    Damaging drunkenness, nigh to prevent it,
    Is a drink that is nice, warm, pleasant, and pale,
    Delicious as ‘cakes,’ and seductive as ‘ale,’
    Like ‘ginger that’s hot in the mouth’ and won’t hurt you,
    As old Falstaff winks it, in spite of your virtue;
    A temperate stimulant cup, to displace
    Pipes, hasheesh, and opium, and all that bad race;
    Cheap as pure water and free as fresh air—­
    Oh, where shall we find such a beverage—­where?

    “No wine for the pure or the wise—­so some teach—­
    Abstinence utter for all and for each,
    Total denial of every right use,
    Because some bad fools the good creature abuse! 
    As well might one vow not to warm at a fire,
    Nor give the least rein to a lawful desire,
    Because some have recklessly burnt down their houses,
    Because the rogue cheats, or the reveller carouses! 
    I see not the logic, the rational logic,
    Conclusive to me, coherent and cogic,
    That since some poor sot in his folly exceeds,
    I must starve out my likings, and stint out my needs.