@2T@1HE wine of love,—a wingéd wine, Crushed from the warm, incarnadine, Deep breathless sunset, and compounded With star-songs in the midnight sounded; Vivid as the summer lightning, Still glowing, paling, fading, bright'ning; O wonder-wine, thy cup I covet, Nor linger long my lips above it! What matter though the draught destroy The sober mind and dull employ? What matter all the ancient tasks?— To live, to live, my spirit asks: Content no more with placid quiet, But, kindling with the race and riot Of the swift-enchanting potion, To enter earth's supreme emotion; Its pains I dare, its farthest fortunes I'll compass, as a @3king@1 impórtunes! The wine of love—a warrior-wine— I quaff, and all the world is mine. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE PASSIONATE SHEPHERD: PASTORAL 3. THE HAPPY COUNTRYMAN by NICHOLAS BRETON WE WEAR THE MASK by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE SOUND OF THE TREES by ROBERT FROST THE SCHRECKHORN by THOMAS HARDY SONNET: ADDRESSED TO HAYDON (2) by JOHN KEATS ZOLA by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON THE CITY OF DREADFUL NIGHT: 21 by JAMES THOMSON (1834-1882) |