 | The Poems of Sir William Watson |  |
THE PEERAGE OF THE LYRE
The bard of Power—the bard of Grace—
Which shall be chief? Nay, why inquire?
Have they not each his equal place
In the great peerage of the lyre?
Which shall be chief? Nay, why inquire?
Have they not each his equal place
In the great peerage of the lyre?
To him who sumptuous wine adores,
No sovereign vintage comes amiss:
With the same reverence, he outpours
The ruddy or the golden bliss.
No sovereign vintage comes amiss:
With the same reverence, he outpours
The ruddy or the golden bliss.
| The Poems of Sir William Watson | |