Sonnet II: Ode on a Shakespearean Comedy

Oh! for a draught from that unrivaled cup
Whose noble contents from the crushed grape springs,
And strong and heady fragrance carried up
On winds of fancy, in fortune calls us kings!
Come, my friend, to the feast of old times past,
And let us drink with cheer the full red wine
Of witful words and tales in comic cast
Where wisdom's found in fools, and lovers pine.
Taste from this vine, the flavor of whose fruit
Is genuine in ripeness – having not
Yet the gall of age, dispirited, bitter, mute –
The sweet harvest, hidden though not forgot.
If you come not to see this grace and wit,
I'll drink for you, and give you taste of it.