'A CUP for hope!' she said, In springtime ere the bloom was old; The crimson wine was poor and cold By her mouth's richer red. 'A cup for love!' how low, How soft the words; and all the while Her blush was rippling with a smile Like summer after snow. 'A cup for memory!' Cold cup that one must drain alone: While autumn winds are up and moan Across the barren sea. Hope, memory, love: Hope for fair morn, and love for day, And memory for the evening grey And solitary dove. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE HIGHER PANTHEISM IN A NUTSHELL by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE SOUL AND BODY by LASCELLES ABERCROMBIE THE DOVE by ABUL HASAN OF SEVILLE PREFACE TO ERINNA'S POEMS by ANTIPATER OF SIDON GREAT THOUGHTS by PHILIP JAMES BAILEY TO MRS. AIKIN by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |