DAY and night my thoughts incline To the blandishments of wine: Jars were made to drain, I think, Wine, I know, was made to drink. When I die, (the day be far!) Should the potters make a jar Out of this poor clay of mine, Let the jar be filled with wine! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONNET: 50 by GEORGE SANTAYANA TO THE FRINGED GENTIAN by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT THE FRIEND OF HUMANITY AND THE KNIFE-GRINDER by GEORGE CANNING IN ROMNEY MARSH by JOHN DAVIDSON THE TREASURES OF THE DEEP by FELICIA DOROTHEA HEMANS THE WIND ON THE HILLS by DORA SIGERSON SHORTER LOFT AT NIGHT by VIRGINIA ABEL |