the ultimate ascent in wine's red raw, deepens love in its finesse, with time. be bound to it in tender ties of rose, rounded clove. "Ce sont l? jeux de prince" and ever since, always will to count its measure, breathe in body, take it under your tongue, as you see into the bold burgundy-wet inner rim, as it widens out in clarity towards a brilliant crown "whose seal is plain on all the wax of the world will be pleased to move, in all His ways, to raise you up again." --111