“Serving-boy, fill for me stronger cups of old Falernian,
since Postumia, the mistress’s, laws demand it,
she who’s juicier than the juicy grape.
But you water, fatal to wine, away with you:
far off, wherever, be off to the strict.
This wine is Bacchus’s own.”
More Entries
- Come, boy, you who serve out the old Falernian, fill up stronger cups for me,
- Bacchus, that first from out the purple grape,
- Take two ounces of hops, and boil them, three or four hours
- Here’s a bumper of wine; fill thine, fill mine:
- Presenting the cork is wine nonsense
- “Champagne is the only wine that enhances a woman’s beauty.”
- And Noah he often said to his wife when he sat down to dine
- Pour out the wine without restraint or stay, Pour not by cups, but by the bellyful,
- I know Bacchus, the god of wine, for he smells of nectar
- Here’s to the man Who owns the land