My Cure
Ma guerison.
The wine, I trust, is working well:
Yes, all is for the best —
By it my reason is restored,
In prison though I rest.
After one draught of Romanee —
The inward bath my senses lulling —
I cursed my Muse, that in her lay
Jests on the great she aye was culling
A fresh attack I might bewail,
But — wondrous dose, deny 't who can? —
Incense to them I had on sale,
After one draught of Chambertin.
The wine, I trust, is working well:
Yes, all is for the best —
By it my reason is restored,
In prison though I rest.
After two draughts of Romanee,
I blushed to think of all my crimes;
Groups round my chamber seemed to play
Of those whom Power had blessed betimes.
The sentence that my Judges past
To touch my lawless soul began:
Marchangy I admired at last,
After two draughts of Chambertin.
The wine, I trust, is working well:
Yes, all is for the best —
By it my reason is restored,
In prison though I rest.
After three draughts of Romanee —
My thoughts no more on tyrants harping,
The Press's fetters knocked away —
Save at the Budget none were carping
In priestly garments, to and fro,
Methought that Toleration ran —
The Gospel something more than show,
After three draughts of Chambertin.
The wine, I trust, is working well:
Yes, all is for the best —
By it my reason is restored,
In prison though I rest.
At the last draught of Romanee,
My eyes grew moist with joyous showers;
Freedom I saw — her crown was gay,
With olives, ears of corn, and flowers
The mildest laws most strictly bound;
The future showed a settled plan;
Bolts drawn and open doors I found,
At the last draught of Chambertin.
The wine, I trust, is working well:
Yes, all is for the best —
By it my reason is restored,
In prison though I rest.
O Chambertin, O Romanee!
Under your auspices when morn
Gives promise of a brilliant day,
Of Love and Hope, Illusion's born.
This sprite, for wand to enforce her sway,
Receives from Fate, when lent to man,
At times a twig from Romanee,
At times a twig from Chambertin.
The wine, I trust, is working well:
Yes, all is for the best —
By it my reason is restored,
In prison though I rest.
The wine, I trust, is working well:
Yes, all is for the best —
By it my reason is restored,
In prison though I rest.
After one draught of Romanee —
The inward bath my senses lulling —
I cursed my Muse, that in her lay
Jests on the great she aye was culling
A fresh attack I might bewail,
But — wondrous dose, deny 't who can? —
Incense to them I had on sale,
After one draught of Chambertin.
The wine, I trust, is working well:
Yes, all is for the best —
By it my reason is restored,
In prison though I rest.
After two draughts of Romanee,
I blushed to think of all my crimes;
Groups round my chamber seemed to play
Of those whom Power had blessed betimes.
The sentence that my Judges past
To touch my lawless soul began:
Marchangy I admired at last,
After two draughts of Chambertin.
The wine, I trust, is working well:
Yes, all is for the best —
By it my reason is restored,
In prison though I rest.
After three draughts of Romanee —
My thoughts no more on tyrants harping,
The Press's fetters knocked away —
Save at the Budget none were carping
In priestly garments, to and fro,
Methought that Toleration ran —
The Gospel something more than show,
After three draughts of Chambertin.
The wine, I trust, is working well:
Yes, all is for the best —
By it my reason is restored,
In prison though I rest.
At the last draught of Romanee,
My eyes grew moist with joyous showers;
Freedom I saw — her crown was gay,
With olives, ears of corn, and flowers
The mildest laws most strictly bound;
The future showed a settled plan;
Bolts drawn and open doors I found,
At the last draught of Chambertin.
The wine, I trust, is working well:
Yes, all is for the best —
By it my reason is restored,
In prison though I rest.
O Chambertin, O Romanee!
Under your auspices when morn
Gives promise of a brilliant day,
Of Love and Hope, Illusion's born.
This sprite, for wand to enforce her sway,
Receives from Fate, when lent to man,
At times a twig from Romanee,
At times a twig from Chambertin.
The wine, I trust, is working well:
Yes, all is for the best —
By it my reason is restored,
In prison though I rest.
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