Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

SONG by THOMAS MOORE

First Line: TIS THE VINE! 'TIS THE VINE! SAID THE CUP-LOVING BOY
TIS the Vine! ' tis the Vine! " said the cup-loving boy
As he saw it spring bright from the earth,
And called the young Genii of Wit, Love, and Joy,
To witness and hallow its birth.
The fruit was full grown, like a ruby it flamed
Till the sun- beam that kist it looked pale:
Tis the Vine! 't is the Vine! every Spirit exclaimed
Hail, hail to the Wine-tree, all hail!
First, fleet as a bird to the summons Wit flew,


While a light on the vine- leaves there broke
In flashes so quick and so brilliant all knew
'T was the light from his lips as he spoke.
Bright tree! let thy nectar but cheer me, he cried,
And the fount of Wit never can fail:
'T is the Vine! ' t is the Vine! hills and valleys reply,
Hail, hail to the Wine- tree, all hail!"


Next Love as he leaned o'er the plant to admire
Each tendril and cluster it wore,
From his rosy mouth sent such a breath of desire,
As made the tree tremble all o'er.
Oh! never did flower of the earth, sea, or sky,
Such a soul-giving odor inhale:
Tis the Vine! ' t is the Vine! all re echo the cry,
Hail, hail to the Wine- tree, all hail!


Last, Joy, without whom even
Love and Wit die,
Came to crown the bright hour with his ray;
And scarce had that mirth-waking tree met his eye,
When a laugh spoke what Joy could not say;
A laugh of the heart which was echoed around
Till like music it swelled on the gale:
'Tis the Vine! 'tis the Vine! laughing myriads resound,
Hail, hail to the Wine-tree, all hail!




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