The third chapter focuses on the theme of alcohol, which is a sort of supermetaphor of poetic distillation, encompassing all the other metaphors.

I wandered lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crowd, A host, of golden daffodils; […]

Felix gropeth him, thinking to have a bribe.

To beholde how it was garnysshyd and bounde, […] The claspis and bullyons were worth a thousande pounde; […]