Emily Dickinson: I taste a liquor never brewed
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--thro endless summer days-- From inns of Molten Blue-- When the "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!