Ode To Alcohol.

So, let's raise a glass, a glistening glass,

to the cleverness of Creation

that such a thing should ever come to pass,

this sure means of glad inebriation.

Beers! Wines! Spirits! What bright array is here!

And each with the same scarcely hidden goal,

one magic ingredient to provide,

the one that brings good cheer,

that tickles us and works to swell the soul,

to lift the mind and nuisance cares to hide.

Such simple peace! That it would ever keep!

But things magical are apt to bear a sting,

some hidden devilry that brings fresh grief

to those who seek but to carouse and sing.

The gods are tricksters, Bacchus no less so:

dally with him long and there's hell to pay.

Tragedy and comedy to him are one,

one hilarious show,

for the human drama is right good play,

ecstasy or agony, all fair fun.

We humans! How we defy the risk of pain!

We know the value of a clear cool mind,

the benefits of a well-working brain,

the means of doing all that's truly fine,

and yet we seem to weary of sound action,

and we must make space for the reckless game,

for foolery, riot, a dizzy dance,

outright stupefaction,

it felt too strict to be always sane,

affording misadventure little chance.

At least we're not mere sensible machines!

Our very misbehaviour, our flaws and fits,

our capriciousness, our faults as beings,

our desperate doings, attest to this.

We bear a fire that sometimes would be lit.

No! We would not be always ordered, meek.

So, let's raise a glass and, this time, a toast

to the human spirit,

to its incorrigible rebel streak,

this vulnerable flesh its faithful host.