And David's lips are lockt; but in divine High-piping Pehlevi, with "Wine! Wine! Wine! Red Wine!" -- the Nightingale cries to the Rose, That sallow cheek of hers t' incarnadine. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SHADOWY WATERS: A DRAMATIC POEM by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS CAMP-MEETING SUNDAY AT OCEAN GROVE by ETHEL LYNN BEERS PATERNITY by WILLIAM ROSE BENET MR. STOTHARD TO MR. CROMEK by WILLIAM BLAKE THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 46. FAREWELL TO JULIET (8) by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |