Poems | ||
WHAT'S WITHIN THIS GLASS OF MINE?
What's within this glass of mine?Radiant thoughts and fancies fine?
Dreams that make the hours divine,
Wine, bright wine.
Drink; within its bubbling gold
Lie delights no tougue hath told,
Far oblivion of all sorrow,
Rest from care and rest from pain,
Joy that knows not of a morrow,
Youth that makes thee young again.
Wit and love, the height of bliss,
Wouldst thou these to-night be thine?
Grasp the life of gods in this,
This, the sunshine that the vine
Stored, to flash through nights of mine
Summer's glow and summer's shine,
That I breathe a life divine,
Life ethereal—life all thine,
Wine, bright wine.
Poems | ||