But what I find most impressive is not the cutesy clever decor but this emblazoned near the entrance, a charming tragicomic poem, by WB Yeats no less.
A Drinking Song
Wine comes in at the mouth
And love comes in at the eye;
That's all we shall know for truth
Before we grow old and die.
I lift the glass to my mouth,
I look at you, and I sigh.
Now, I wonder if this is to encourage Eurodecadent present-day Devdas-wannabes or if it was written with reference to the unbelievably cute-but-interesting male eye candy on view, as Brunch delightfully informs us.
Either way, I like being this way. Not even close to drunk, but happily buzzing. Ah, Yeats, friends and draught beer. What more can one ask from life on a Sunday?