OTHAT a lovely lyre were I, Fashioned all of ivory, And lovely youths would bear me by To the Bacchic revelry! O that a lovely cup were I, Virgin-gold made perfectly, That a lovely dame might lift me high To shrive her soul to purity! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HER MERRIMENT by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES TO HIS WIFE WITH A KNIFE ON THE 14TH ANNIVERSARY OF HER WEDDING DAY by SAMUEL BISHOP NOVEMBER MORNING by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN A WOMAN'S SONNETS: 5 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT AN INVOCATION by JOHN GARDINER CALKINS BRAINARD |