You may drink to your leman in gold, In a great golden goblet of wine; She's as ripe as the wine, and as bold As the glare of the gold: But this little lady of mine, I will not profane her in wine. I go where the garden so still is (The moon raining through), To pluck the white bowls of the lilies, And drink her in dew! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BALLAD OF THE GIBBET by FRANCOIS VILLON MEETING AT NIGHT by ROBERT BROWNING TO MY NOSE by ALFRED HENRY FORRESTER ADVICE TO A LADY [IN AUTUMN] by PHILIP DORMER STANHOPE THE GENTLE CHECK by JOSEPH BEAUMONT TO HIS DEAR FRIEND THOMAS RANDOLPH, ON HIS COMEDY 'THE JEALOUS LOVERS' by RICHARD BENEFIELD |