Take hence the bowl; though beaming
Brightly as bowl e'er shone,
With Fizz sublimely creaming,
Or Port or Zoedone.
There is a new potation
To warm the hearts of men,
And wake imagination--
In Liquid Oxygen!
Each cup I drain, _bien frappé_,
My tongue pat talk can teach;
It helps to make me happy
In after-dinner speech.
At banquet, or at gala,
I match such mighty men
As GLADSTONE, CARR, or SALA,
On Liquid Oxygen!
A fig for Mumm or Massio,
Falernian and such fudge;
(Thin stuff those tipples classic
If I am any judge.)
But burning thoughts come o'er me
And fire my tongue, or pen,
When I've a bowl before me
Of Liquid Oxygen!
When fun needs stimulation,
Or fancy fails in fire;
When lags the long oration,
Or tongues postprandial tire;
Then take the tip Huxleyan,
And one long swig,--and then
You'll promptly raise a pæan
To Liquid Oxygen!
* * * * *