The wisest men are fools in wine,
Experience makes us think:
Its magic spells are so divine,
We reason-yet we drink!

How short's the longest life of man,
How soon its brightest laurels fade-
Then, as our life is but a span,
Let all its hours be joyous made.

Wine o'er the ardent restless mind
Entwines its poppy chain;
A solace, then, the wretched find.
In fictions of the brain.

Oh! as the charmed glass we sip,
We conquer care and pain:
It woos like woman's dewy lip,
To kiss-and come again!

This Song has been admirably set to Music, and Sung with great
success, by MR. HENRY PHILLIPS.-It is published by MORI and
LAVENU, 28, New Bond-street.