What time I read your mighty line, <br />O Mr. Q. Horatius Flaccus, <br />In praise of many an ancient wine-- <br />You twanged a wickid lyric to Bacchus!-- <br />I wondered, like a Yankee hick, <br />If that old stuff contained a kick. <br /> <br />So when upon a Paris card <br />I glimpsed a Falernian, I said: "Waiter, <br />I'll emulate that ancient bard, <br />And pass upon his merits later." <br />Professor Mendell, quelque sport, <br />Suggested that we split a quart. <br /> <br />O Flaccus, ere I ceased to drink <br />Three glasses and a pair of highballs, <br />I could not talk, I could not think; <br />For I was pickled to the eyeballs. <br />If you sopped up Falernian wine <br />How did you ever write a line?<br /><br />Franklin P. Adams<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/on-a-wine-of-horace-s/
