But most too passive, when the blood runs low, Too weakly indolent to strive with pain, And bravely by resisting conquer fate, Try Circe’s arts; and in the tempting bowl Of poisoned nectar sweet oblivion swill. Struck by the powerful charm, the gloom dissolves In empty air; Elysium opens round, A pleasing frenzy buoys the lightened soul, And sanguine hopes dispel your fleeting care; And what was difficult, and what was dire, Yields to your prowess and superior stars: The happiest you of all that e’er were mad, Or are, or shall be, could this folly last. But soon your heaven is gone: a heavier gloom Shuts o’er your head; and, as the thundering stream, Swollen o’er its banks with sudden mountain rain, Sinks from its tumult to a silent brook, So, when the frantic raptures in your breast Subside, you languish into mortal man; You sleep, and waking find yourself undone, For, prodigal of life, in one rash night You lavished more than might support three days. A heavy morning comes; your cares return With tenfold rage. An anxious stomach well May be endured; so may the throbbing head; But such a dim delirium, such a dream, Involves you; such a dastardly despair Unmans your soul, as maddening Pentheus felt, When, baited round Cithæron’s cruel sides, He saw two suns, and double Thebes ascend. How does this remind of the rich fool in the parable! The earlier lines of irony seem almost taken in idea from some sentiments of Hafiz, the favourite poet of the Persians. I am [says he] neither a judge nor a priest, nor a censor, nor a lawyer; why should I forbid the use of wine? Do not be vexed at the trifles of the world; drink, for it is folly for a wise man to be afflicted.... The only friends who are free from care are a goblet of wine and a book of odes. Give me wine! wine that shall subdue the strongest: that I may for a time forget the cares and troubles of the world. Armstrong joined in the general growl at the substitution of port for the lighter French wine. In describing a man’s sensations on awaking he says:-- You curse the sluggish port, you curse the wretch, The felon, with unnatural mixture, first Who dared to violate the virgin wine. Again, when speaking of wholesome wine, he praises:-- The gay, serene, good-natured Burgundy, Or the fresh fragrant vintage of the Rhine. Again, he describes Burgundy as the drink for gentlemen, and port as an abomination:-- The man to well-bred Burgundy brought up, Will start the smack of _Methuen_ in the cup. What Armstrong said one hundred and thirty years ago I entreat my medical brethren to believe now. I repeat it: if you want to prescribe _spirits_, do so; if you want to give _wine_, give _pure_ wine. One bottle of good Burgundy will give twice the flavour and half the spirit that port does.[223]