Fill me my Wine in Christall; thus, and thus I see't in's puris naturalibus: Unmixt. I love to have it smirke and shine, 'Tis sin I know, 'tis sin to throtle Wine. What Mad-man's he, that when it sparkles so, Will coole his flames, or quench his fires with snow? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A LOVER'S QUARREL by ROBERT BROWNING STAR-TALK by ROBERT RANKE GRAVES THAT NATURE IS A HERACLITEAN FIRE & OF THE COMFORT OF THE RESURRECTION by GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS HOMAGE TO QUINTUS SEPTIMIUS FLORENTIS CHRISTIANUS: TROY by AGATHIAS SCHOLASTICUS CELEBRATION ODE by LYMAN WHITNEY ALLEN EPIGRAM by DECIMUS MAGNUS AUSONIUS THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 103. WRITTEN AT FLORENCE: 1 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |