LUTE, no longer hang upon your peg unstirred, Silencing your liquid voice of seven strings! To my hands! for I would send a golden word To Alexander from the Muses' wings, Joy to those who sit and drink in groups of twenty, When the soul warms with compulsion soft and sweet, And the cups go jostling round the board in plenty; Hopes of love then make the young hearts beat. Dionysus mingles in the wine new powers, Sending high adventure to the thoughts of men; This man thinks he sacks a city's crown of towers, That man dreams himself a monarch then. Here with gold and ivory the halls are burning; Bringing wheat and wealth across the gleaming brine Back from Egypt come the merchantmen returning -- So is each man's spirit stirred by wine. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...READY TO KILL by CARL SANDBURG SONNET: OF THREE GIRLS AND OF THEIR TALK by GIOVANNI BOCCACCIO THE EXAMPLE by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES EPITAPHS OF THE WAR, 1914-18: BATTERIES OUT OF AMMUNITION by RUDYARD KIPLING AUREOLA by NELLIE COOLEY ALDER AN ELECTIVE COURSE by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH |