My Cellar

Image from flickr – millerm217


My cellar, ’tis of thee
Wondrous sub-treasury,
Of thee I sing;
Cave on your owner’s pride!
Hall where glad spirits hide!
To every bottle’s side,
Let cobwebs cling.

My sacred cellar, thee,
Pent-up perfumery
For lucky lungs!
I love thy flirting flasks,
Thy jugs, they jovial casks;
Heigh-ho, the tempting tasks
Of pulling bungs!
Let prohibition spread
Outside — above my head;
Down here all’s well!
Let mellow whisky flow!
Let neighbors come below!
This is the life, what-ho!
Who would rebel?

John Barleycorn, old boy,
They cannot kill they joy;
Hail, Nature’s pet!
Long last each home’s supply
— America’s gone dry?
Ho, what a jolly lie!
— We’re soaking wet!

Olean Evening Times (Olean, New York) Dec 3, 1919

Image from Leslie M.M. Blume

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