What time I read your mighty line, 
O Mr. Q. Horatius Flaccus, 
In praise of many an ancient wine-- 
You twanged a wickid lyric to Bacchus!-- 
I wondered, like a Yankee hick, 
If that old stuff contained a kick.

So when upon a Paris card 
I glimpsed a Falernian, I said: "Waiter, 
I'll emulate that ancient bard, 
And pass upon his merits later." 
Professor Mendell, quelque sport, 
Suggested that we split a quart.

O Flaccus, ere I ceased to drink 
Three glasses and a pair of highballs, 
I could not talk, I could not think; 
For I was pickled to the eyeballs. 
If you sopped up Falernian wine 
How did you ever write a line?