Ode: Bounteous essence of the vine

Bounteous essence of the vine
The present hour is wholly thine;
Fervid waves of rapture strong
Throb my bursting veins along.
Wide expands my glowing heart,
Forth it's generous Inmates start,
Mirth, and Fancy's vivid train,
Wit, which Art could ne'er enchain,
And Friendship of ethereal mould,
Hating meanness, hating gold.
Prudence hence; it loaths to trace
The features of thy simpering face,
Thy sober-measur'd gait to spy,
And leaden joy-forbidding eye.
Prudence hence; thy laws I scorn,
Thou of mean Deceit art born,
By sly Hypocrisy begot;
Noble Frankness heeds thee not.
Yet tho all my sallying soul
Expatiates wide, and hates controul;
Tho my thoughts unbridled dare
Forward fly in wild career;
In their most impetuous course,
Let me, Reason, prove thy force:
Tho thou totter'st on thy throne,
Let me call thee still my own;
For so mad I would not be,
As quite to lose the sight of thee.