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ANACREONTICS.
Let flow the Rhine-wine mellow.
The whole earth smiles upon me then,
With ruddy, rosy blinking;
I couldn't hurt the worst of men,
While drinking, drinking, drinking!
But ah! my thirst grows fiercer still
With every flask I ope here,
Which is th' inevitable ill
Of every genuine toper.
Yet this my comfort, when at last
From chair to floor I'm sinking,
I always kept my purpose fast
Of drinking, drinking, drinking!
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