Spilled into the cup The wine flames up, Wreathing it entire In robes of fire. Now above the wine Bright bubbles shine; Greater wonder eye May ne'er espy. See, the wine's aflame; Yet o'er the same Dancing hailstones spin, The wine's own kin. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DOMESDAY BOOK: REV. PERCY FERGUSON by EDGAR LEE MASTERS AN ENGLISH MOTHER by ROBERT UNDERWOOD JOHNSON FOR THE YOUNGEST by CHARLES WESLEY LUCY (2) by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH TO ADOLPHE GAIFFE by THEODORE FAULLAIN DE BANVILLE SONG: FOR THEE by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT LIMERICK by FRANK GELETT BURGESS THE MARCH OF THE GHOSTS by VINCENT GODFREY BURNS WARNING; SUGGESTED BY THE CHRISTIANA (PA.) TREASON TRIALS by ALFRED GIBBS CAMPBELL |