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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE GRAPES OF MALAGA, by FLORENCE WENNER First Line: In spain the grapes of malaga Last Line: To hell-draughts have been ground! Subject(s): Grapes; Malaga, Spain | |||
In Spain the grapes of Malaga Grow on the sunny hills; Pale, firm-fleshed grapes of Malaga From which aroma spills. Men pressed the grapes of Malaga To drink white wine aglow! But all that comes from Malaga Now has a crimson flow. Men tread the firm-fleshed fruit of earth, Turning its white to red; They crush away its bead of mirth Fermenting death instead! They use a cup the gods would drain To drown the dream of Spain. Better the grapes of Malaga Unharvested had lain; Better the wine of Malaga Thus spilt on battle's mound Flowed still in vines of Malaga Beyond the battle's sound; For firm-fleshed grapes of Malaga, The sweet pale grapes of Malaga, To hell-draughts have been ground! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...YOUR PICNICS by FLORENCE WENNER CORRESPONDENCES; HEXAMETERS AND PENTAMETERS by CHRISTOPHER PEARSE CRANCH AN ANTE-BELLUM SERMON by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR ROMANCE by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH TROPIC NIGHTFALL by ROBERT AVRETT COMMENDATORY VERSES TO WILLIAM BROWNE'S 'BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS' by WILLIAM BASSE THE MOCKING-BIRD by JOHN GARDINER CALKINS BRAINARD THE CROWDED STREET by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT |
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