OF LOVE AND WINE by CHARLES GAMAGE EASTMAN

Of love and wine old poets sung,
Old poets rich and rare,—
Of wine with red and ruby heart,
And love with golden hair:
Of wine that winged the poet's thought
And woke the slumbering lyre;
Of love that through the poet's line
Ran like a flash of fire.

But wine, when those old poets sung
Its praises long ago,
Was something subtler than the bards
Of modern ages know,—
Ay, wine was wine when Teian girls,
Flushed with the rosy dew,
To old Anacreon's fiery strains
Through wanton dances flew.

And love, when those old poets sung
Its praises long ago,
Was something warmer than the bards
Of modern ages know,—
Ay, love was love when Teian girls,
Flushed with the melting fire,
With roses crowned Anacreon's brow,
With kisses paid his lyre!

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