flagons

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We -- Bee and I -- live by the quaffing --We — Bee and I — live by the quaffing –
‘Tisn’t all Hock — with us –
Life has its Ale –
But it’s many a lay of the Dim Burgundy –
We chant — for cheer — when the Wines — fail –

Do we “get drunk”?
Ask the jolly Clovers!
Do we “beat” our “Wife”?
I — never wed –
Bee — pledges his — in minute flagons –
Dainty — as the trees — on our deft Head –

While runs the Rhine –
He and I — revel –
First — at the vat — and latest at the Vine –
Noon — our last Cup –
“Found dead” — “of Nectar” –
By a humming Coroner –
In a By-Thyme!

As Watchers hang upon the EastAs Watchers hang upon the East,
As Beggars revel at a feast
By savory Fancy spread –
As brooks in deserts babble sweet
On ear too far for the delight,
Heaven beguiles the tired.

As that same watcher, when the East
Opens the lid of Amethyst
And lets the morning go –
That Beggar, when an honored Guest,
Those thirsty lips to flagons pressed,
Heaven to us, if true.