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Come boy, and pour for me a cupOf old Falernian. Fill it upWith wine, strong, sparkling, bright, and clear;Our host decrees no water here.Let dullards drink the Nymph’s pale brew,The sluggish thin their blood with dew.For such pale stuff we have no use;For us the purple grape’s rich juice.Begone, ye chilling water sprite;Here burning Bacchus rules tonight!