The Friday Night Posting While Drunk Post!

FILL the cup from some secretest fountain,
Under granite ledges, deep and low,
Where the crystal vintage of the mountain,
Runs in foam from dazzling fields of snow.

Some lost stream, that in a woodland hollow
Coils, to sleep its weariness away,
Shut from prying stars, that fain would follow,
In the emerald glooms of hemlock spray.

Fill, dear friend, a goblet cool and sparkling
As the sunlight of October morns,—
Not for us the crimson wave, that darkling
Stains the lips of olden drinking-horns!

“We will quaff, beneath the noontide glowing,
Draughts of nectar, sweet as faery dew;
Couched on ferny banks, where light airs blowing,
Shake the leaves between us and the blue.

We will pledge in breathless, long libation,
All we have been, or have sworn to be, —
Fame, and Joy, and Love’s dear adoration, —
Summer’s lusty bacchanals are we!

Round the white roots of the fragrant lily,
And the mossy hazels, purple-stained,
Once the music of these waters chilly
Gave return for all the sweetness drained.

How that rare, delicious, woodland flavor
Mocked my palate in the fever hours,
When I pined for springs of coolest savor,
As the burning Earth for thunder-showers!

In the wave, which through my maddened dreaming
Flowed to cheat me, fill the cups again!
Drink, dear friend, to life which is not seeming, —
Fresh as this to manhood’s heart and brain!

Fill, fill high! and while our goblets, ringing,
Shine with vintage of the mountain-snow,
Youth shall bid his Fountain, blithely springing,
Brim our souls to endless overflow!
~ Bayard Taylor

When you drank the world was still out there, but for the moment it didn’t have you by the throat.
~ Charlie B.

Shot of bourbon x4 while gardening after work.