Chapter 1556 of 1964 · 58 words · ~1 min read

XXXVII.

I'll have another figure in a trice:-- What say you to a bottle of champagne? Frozen into a very vinous ice, Which leaves few drops of that immortal rain, Yet in the very centre, past all price, About a liquid glassful will remain; And this is stronger than the strongest grape Could e'er express in its expanded shape: