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GRAPE, n.Hail noble fruit! –by Homer sung, Anacreon and Khayyam; Thy praise is ever on the tongue Of better men than I am.The lyre in my hand has never swept, The song I cannot offer: My humbler service pray accept — I’ll help to kill the scoffer.The water-drinkers and the cranks Who load their skins with liquor — I’ll gladly bear their belly-tanks And tap them with my sticker.Fill up, fill up, for wisdom cools When e’er we let the wine rest. Here’s death to Prohibition’s fools, And every kind of vine-pest! –Jamrach Holobom

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