POUR forth the wine! the ruby wine! And with thine eyes look into mine, Thou friend of olden days! Heap up the blazing logs. Not here On this grey ridge of granite drear, Boon April spends her flow'ry cheer, To wake the poet's lays. The east wind, through th' ungenial day, Blows meagre, thin, and chill, And laggard winter's freezing ray Gleams from the snow-patch'd hill. Pour forth the wine! the ruby wine! And with thine eyes look into mine, Thou friend of olden days! Cheer me with love and truth; for I Oft seek in vain, beneath the sky, The true heart, from the open eye That looks with guileless gaze. A cold and caution-crusted race Here fans few joys in me; But when I see a clear, bright face, I flourish, and am free! Pour forth the wine! the ruby wine! And with thine eyes look into mine, Thou friend of olden days! Speak of devotion's fiery breath, Friendship and love more strong than death, And high resolve, and manly faith, That walks in open ways. Look as thou didst long years ago, And read my heart with thine, That Love and Truth may freely flow, To bless the ruby wine! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HIS MOTHER'S SERVICE TO OUR LADY by FRANCOIS VILLON AN ALPINE PICTURE by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH THE MASTER by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON THE SEARCH FOR LEAVEN by ALTER ABELSON HYMN TO SANTA RITA; THE PATRON SAINT OF THE IMPOSSIBLE by ALVEY AUGUSTUS ADEE THE MESSENGER by WILLIAM ROSE BENET |