I love not wine; yet if thou'ldst make A sad man merry, sup first sup, And when thou giv'st I'll take the cup: If thy lip touch it, for thy sake No more may I be stiff and staid And the luscious jug evade: The cup convoys thy kiss to me, And tells the joy it had of thee. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CHRISTMAS by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE EVE OF ST. AGNES by JOHN KEATS THE HONEYSUCKLE by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI THE YEAR OF JUBILEE by HENRY CLAY WORK WITH A COPY OF CALVERLEY by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS |