To Argier's warlike king, unused to wine, (Cursed, and forbidden by his law, esteemed)
The liquor, tasted once, appeared divine, Sweeter than nectar or than manna seemed:
He, quaffing largely, now of Ishmael's line The sober use deserving censure deemed.
So fast their cups with that good wine they fill, Each reveller's head is whirling like a mill.