Thus hours shall pass which no man reckons, 'Mongst us, who, glad with mirth divine, Heed not the shadowy hand that beckons Across the sea of wine-- Of billowy gushing wine!'
Kenyon then added another stanza, which suggested a final verse to the American:
'And though 'tis true they cross in pain, Who sober cross the Stygian ferry, Yet only make our Styx Champagne, And we shall cross right merry, Floating away on wine!'
'Old Charon's self shall make him mellow, Then gaily row his bark from shore; While we and every jolly fellow Hear unconcerned the oar That dips itself in wine!'
By this time the inspiration and the Champagne were alike exhausted.
The history of Champagne in England during the latter half of the present century may be briefly summed up in the assertion of the ever-growing popularity of the wine, and the high repute attained by certain brands, which it would be invidious to particularise. Its success in oiling the wheels of social life is so great and so universally acknowledged that its eclipse would almost threaten a collapse of our social system. We cannot open a railway, launch a vessel, inaugurate a public edifice, start a newspaper, entertain a distinguished foreigner, invite a leading politician to favour us with his views on things in general, celebrate an anniversary, or specially appeal on behalf of a benevolent institution without a banquet, and hence without the aid of Champagne, which, at the present day, is the obligatory adjunct of all such repasts.
When the Municipality of London welcome the Khan of Kamschatka to our shores and to the Guildhall, Champagne flows in the proverbial buckets full. When the Master and Wardens of the Coalscuttle-Makers' Company bid the Livery to one of their periodical feasts, scandal says that even this measure is exceeded. When Sir Fusby Guttleton gives one of his noted 'little spreads' at Greenwich, are not torrents of iced 'dry' needed to quench the thirst excited by the devilled bait? Aware, too, of the unloosening effect the wine exercises upon the strings of both heart and purse, Pomposo, as chairman at the annual festival of the Decayed Muffinmongers' Asylum, is careful to see that the glasses of the guests have been well charged with it before he commences his stirring appeal on behalf of that deserving institution.