TO ONE DEMANDING WHY WINE SPARKLES by HENRY KING (1592-1669)

So diamonds sparkle, and thy mistress' eyes;
When 'tis not fire but light in eigher flies.
Beauty not thaw'd by lustful flames will show
Like a fair mountain of unmelted snow:
Nor can the tasted vine more danger bring
Than water taken from the crystal spring,
Whose end is to refresh and cool that heat
Which unallay'd becomes foul vice's seat:
Unless thy boiling veins, mad with desire
Of drink, convert the liquor into fire.
For then thou quaff'st down fevers, thy full bowls
Carouse the burning draughts of Portia's coals.

If it do leap and sparkle in the cup,
'Twill sink thy cares, and help invention up.
There never yet was Muse or Poet known
Not dipt or drenched in this Helicon.
But Tom! take heed thou use it with such care
As witches deal with their familiar.
For if thy virtue's circle not confine
And guard thee from the Furies rais'd by wine,
'Tis ten to one this dancing spirit may
A Devil prove to bear thy wits away;
And make thy glowing nose a map of Hell
Where Bacchus' purple fumes like meteors dwell.
Now think not these sage morals thee invite
To prove Carthusian or strict Rechabite;
Let fool's be mad, wise people may be free,
Though not to license turn their liberty.
He that drinks wine for health, not for excess,
Nor drowns his temper in a drunkenness,
Shall feel no more the grape's unruly fate,
Then if he took some chilling opiate.

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