I taste a liquor never brewed, From tankards scooped in pearl; Not all the vats upon the Rhine Yield such an alcohol! . Inebriate of air am I, And debauchee of dew, Reeling, through endless summer days, From inns of molten blue. . When landlords turn the drunken bee Out of the foxglove's door, When butterflies renounce their drams, I shall but drink the more! . Till seraphs swing their snowy hats, And saints to windows run, To see the little tippler Leaning against the sun! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LET IT BE YOU by SARA TEASDALE TO PRIMROSES FILLED WITH MORNING DEW by ROBERT HERRICK THE VALLEY OF UNREST (2) by EDGAR ALLAN POE LILIES: 29 by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) A COMPARISON OF THE LIFE OF MAN by RICHARD BARNFIELD |