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the flowing bowl
Ancient poets were not less backward than
modern votaries of the muses ; and it is related
of the poet Philoxenus that he was frequently-
heard to express the wish that he had a neck as
long as a crane's, that he might the longer have
the pleasure ofswallowing wine, and of enjoying
its delicious taste. I have heard the same wish
expressed, during much more recent years.
One more old song, translated from a French
chanson a boire^ and I take my leave of the awful
habits of the ancients (I trust) for ever. It is
called
THE TIPPLING PHILOSOPHERS.
Diogenes, surly and proud,
Who snari'd at the Macedon youth.
Delighted in wine that was good.
Because in good wine there is truth ;
But growing as poor as a Job,
Unable to purchase a flask.
He chose for his mansion a tub.
And lived by the scent of the cask.
[Neither the air, nor the chorus, of this song
is given in the old MS. But I would suggest
the old air of "Wednesbury Cocking," with a
little " tol-de-rol " at the finish of each verse.]
Heraclitus ne'er could deny
To tipple and cherish his heart.
And when he was maudlin hed cry.
Because he had empty d his quart;
Tho' some are so foolish to think
He wept at men's folly and vice,
'Twas only his fashion to drink
Till the liquor flow'd out of his eyes.