[1745] I Taste a Liquor Never Brewed

I taste a liquor never brewed,
From tankards scooped in pearl;
Not all the vats upon the Rhine
Yield such an alcohol!

Inebriate of air am I,
And debauchee of dew,
Reeling, through endless summer days,
From inns of molten blue.

When landlords turn the drunken bee
Out of the foxglove's door,
When butterflies renounce their drams,
I shall but drink the more!

Till seraphs swing their snowy hats,
And saints to windows run,
To see the little tippler
Leaning against the sun!

   -- Emily Dickinson

Just a quick response to Zen's tea poem [Poem #1743] (which, incidentally, I
have absolutely no memory of ever sending her). Figured if we were doing
poems about drinking and beverages more generally (I sense a theme coming on
- Martin / Thomas?) we can't do without including this little marvel of a
poem.

Today's poem is not, emphatically, one of Dickinson's best. Some of the
lines border on trite and the overall effect is of something light and
harmless, the intense power that I love Dickinson for is missing. But it's
precisely this frothiness that makes this poem such a delightful read.
Poetry really doesn't get sweeter and happier than this - to read these 16
lines is to experience the very giddiness that Dickinson is trying to
describe. There are some exquisite phrases here "Inebriate of air am I / and
debauchee of dew" and "inns of molten blue" and Dickinson's quicksilver
lines create a sense of footsteps dancing lightly through across the page
which is simply exquisite.

This is a poem one could truly get drunk on.

Aseem

Other suggested reading on minstrels:

John Agard's Coffee in Heaven [Poem #1071]
(another poem we owe to Zen - you're really obsessed, aren't you?)
Vikram Seth's Sit [Poem #966]
Harold Monro's Milk for the Cat [Poem #727]
Rumi's The Tavern [Poem #514]
Harivansh Rai Bacchan's Madhusala [Poem #72]
Omar Khayyam's Rubaiyat (extract) [Poem #162]

[this poem is archived, accessible and awaiting your comments at]
http://www.cs.rice.edu/~ssiyer/minstrels/poems/1744.html
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From: Alan S Kornheiser <akornhis@>

Surely the poem goes thus:

Martinis my dear are deceptive
Take two at the very most
Three and you're under the table
Four and you're under the host.

Or at least that's how I heard it. I it certainly scans better

Alan Kornheiser

From: "Barbara  Burgwin" <barbarabonkers@>

Hi,
Thanks for the Dorothy Parker poem. Here's one I like, that's related when
you get to the last line:

Changes

What I've learned from water
is to welcome change,
flow when I can, become snow when I must,
then a mist, hovering over the Earth
or a fog, snarling traffic,
even an ice clube,
tinkling in your drink.

                    ~Barbara Wolf

Barbara (not Wolf)

From: Dale Rosenberg <daleqrose@>

It's not in _The Portable Dorothy Parker_.  Doesn't
mean it's *not* hers...

Dale