I love not wine; yet if thou'ldst make A sad man merry, sup first sup, And when thou giv'st I'll take the cup: If thy lip touch it, for thy sake No more may I be stiff and staid And the luscious jug evade: The cup convoys thy kiss to me, And tells the joy it had of thee. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MNEMOSYNE by TRUMBULL STICKNEY THE SAILOR BOY by ALFRED TENNYSON SUMMER APPROACHES by MABEL WARREN ARNOLD BLESS, DEAR SAVIOUR, THIS CHILD by THOMAS BECK WIND OF SUMMER by KATHERINE HARRIS BRADLEY YULE-SONG: A MEMORY by WILLIAM STANLEY BRAITHWAITE A HYMN IN PRAISE OF NEPTUNE by THOMAS CAMPION THE CANTERBURY TALES: THE PARDONER'S TALE by GEOFFREY CHAUCER |