Cups and their Customs

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John Van Voorst, 1863 - Drinking cups - 62 pages
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Page 21 - From fam'd Barbadoes, on the western main, ' Fetch sugar, ounces four; fetch sack from) Spain A pint; and from the Eastern Indian coast Nutmeg, the glory of our northern toast; O'er flaming coals let them together heat, Till the all-conquering sack dissolve the sweet; O'er such another fire put eggs just ten, New-born from tread of cock and rump of hen; Stir them with steady hand and conscience pricking, To see th...
Page 51 - START not — nor deem my spirit fled : In me behold the only skull, From which, unlike a living head, Whatever flows is never dull. I lived, I loved, I quaff'd, like thee ; I died : let earth my bones resign : Fill up — thou canst not injure me ; The worm hath fouler lips than thine. Better to hold the sparkling grape, Than nurse the earth-worm's slimy brood ; And circle in the goblet's shape The drink of gods, than reptile's...
Page 21 - When boiled and cold put milk and sack to eggs, Unite them firmly like the triple league, And on the fire let them together dwell Till Miss sing twice — you must not kiss and tell Each lad and lass take up a silver spoon, And fall on fiercely like a starved dragoon.
Page 2 - O madness, to think use of strongest wines, And strongest drinks, our chief support of health, When God with these forbidden made choice to rear His mighty champion, strong above compare, Whose drink was only from the liquid brook ! Sams.
Page 34 - Oh! Peggy, Peggy, when thou go'st to Brew, Consider well what you're about to do; Be very Wise, very sedately think That what you're going now to make is Drink: Consider who must drink that Drink, and then, What 'tis to have the Praise of Honest Men: 30 For surely, Peggy, while that Drink does last, 'Tis Peggy will be Toasted or Disgrac'd.
Page 33 - ... Mutton Hill. A man can never make good punch unless he is satisfied, nay positive, that no man breathing can make better. I can and do make good Punch, because I do nothing else, and this is my way of doing it. I retire to a solitary corner with my ingredi-ents ready sorted ; they are as follows, and I mix them in the order they are here written.
Page 20 - As clever Tom Clinch, while the rabble was bawling, Rode stately through Holborn to die in his calling, He stopt at the George for a bottle of sack, And promised to pay for it when he came back.
Page 51 - I quaff'd, like thee ; I died : let earth my bones resign : Fill up — thou canst not injure me ; The worm hath fouler lips than thine. Better to hold the sparkling grape, Than nurse the earth-worm's slimy brood ; And circle in the goblet's shape The drink of gods, than reptile's food. Where once my wit, perchance, hath shone, In aid of others...
Page 15 - Clear as the tears of a penitent, so that a man may see distinctly to the bottom of his glass ; its colour should represent the greenness of a buffalo's horn. When drunk it should descend impetuously like thunder, sweet-tasted as an almond, creeping like a squirrel, leaping like a roebuck, strong like the building of a Cistercian monastery, glittering like a spark of fire, subtle as the logic of the schools of Paris, delicate as fine silk, and colder than crystal.

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