Author Sarah Kemble Knight I ask thy Aid, O Potent Rum! To charm these wrangling Topers Dum. Thou hast their Giddy Brains possest — The man confounded with the Beast — And I, poor I, can get no rest. Intoxicate them with thy fumes: O still their Tongues till morning comes! Tags Short Poems Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments