 | The poems of Richard Henry Stoddard |  |
[Day and night my thoughts incline]
Day and night my thoughts incline
To the blandishments of wine:
Jars were made to drain, I think,
Wine, I know, was made to drink.
To the blandishments of wine:
Jars were made to drain, I think,
Wine, I know, was made to drink.
When I die, (the day be far!)
Should the potters make a jar
Out of this poor clay of mine,
Let the jar be filled with wine!
Should the potters make a jar
Out of this poor clay of mine,
Let the jar be filled with wine!
| The poems of Richard Henry Stoddard | |