- end_line
- 7123
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-30T20:47:57.725Z
- extracted_by
- structure-extraction-lambda
- start_line
- 7103
- text
- something strong; but wine--surely, that gentle creature, wine; come,
let us have a little gentle wine at one of these little tables here.
Come, come." Then essaying to roll about like a full pipe in the sea,
sang in a voice which had had more of good-fellowship, had there been
less of a latent squeak to it:
"Let us drink of the wine of the vine benign,
That sparkles warm in Zansovine."
The cosmopolitan, with longing eye upon him, stood as sorely tempted and
wavering a moment; then, abruptly stepping towards him, with a look of
dissolved surrender, said: "When mermaid songs move figure-heads, then
may glory, gold, and women try their blandishments on me. But a good
fellow, singing a good song, he woos forth my every spike, so that my
whole hull, like a ship's, sailing by a magnetic rock, caves in with
acquiescence. Enough: when one has a heart of a certain sort, it is in
vain trying to be resolute."
- title
- Chunk 3