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A BANQUET, by                    
First Line: After the song the love, and after the love the play
Last Line: But water at morning is quench for the thirsting!
Subject(s): Feasts; Socrates (470-399 B.c.)


After the song the love, and after the love the play,
Flute girl and pretty boy blowing
Bubbles of sparkling
Wine into darkling
Beards of a former austerity, stern even now, but fast growing
Foolish, with less of the stately
Reserve that held them sedately.
Oh Zeus, what a sight! with the wine dripping off it,
The grin of an ass on a bald-pated prophet.

After the feast the night, and after the night the day,
Fool and philosopher stirring
With the day dawning,
Stretching and yawning,
While in each wine-throbbing, desolate brain is the wheeling and whirring
Of thousands of bats, that the slaking
Of throats will not hinder from aching,
No wine for the brow that is beating to bursting,
But water at morning is quench for the thirsting!





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