Spirit

Spirit.
101-6

“I drink no wire.” The Latier bland,
Paused blankly staring. Maak in hand.
The bright-eyed belles, the cuil-eyed beaux,
All roured from Jinner table pose,
Gave heed auch heresica demand.

Then slanted glance, light laughter fanned,
And whispered jest behind the hand.
At who dares say to friends and foes,
“I drink no wine.”

Once more the gulf of silence spanned.
By that clear voice. With courage grand,
Wine is a mocker, but there flows
A fount, clear, pure. to heal earth’s woes,
I come, sah, from Kentucky, and
“I drink no wine.”
Grace MacGowan Cooke in December Smart
Sat