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I always understood it to be "'scuse me while I kiss this guy". Obviously, kissing the sky is far more heroic. Listen to Emily Dickinson tell it a hundred years before:

I taste a liquor never brewed -

From Tankards scooped in Pearl -

Not all the Frankfort Berries

Yield such an Alcohol!

Inebriate of air - am I -

And Debauchee of Dew -

Reeling - thro' endless summer days -

From inns of molten Blue -

When "Landlords" turn the drunken Bee

Out of the Foxglove's door -

When Butterflies - renounce their "drams" -

I shall but drink the more!

Till Seraphs swing their snowy Hats -

And Saints - to windows run -

To see the little Tippler

Leaning against the - Sun!

I taste a liquor never brewed,

From tankards scooped in pearl;

Not all the vats upon the Rhine

Yield such an alcohol!

Inebriate of air am I,

And debauchee of dew,

Reeling, through endless summer days,

From inns of molten blue.

When landlords turn the drunken bee

Out of the foxglove's door,

When butterflies renounce their drams,

I shall but drink the more!

Till seraphs swing their snowy hats,

And saints to windows run,

To see the little tippler

Leaning against the sun!

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