WHEN the yellow bird's note was almost stopped; And half formed the green plum's fruit; Sitting and grieving that spring things were over, I rose and entered the Eastern Garden's gate. I carried my cup and was dully drinking alone: Suddenly I heard a knocking sound at the door. Dwelling secluded, I was glad that someone had come; How much the more, when I saw it was Ch'en Hsiung! At ease and leisure, -- all day we talked; Crowding and jostling, the feelings of many years. How great a thing is a single cup of wine! For it makes us tell the story of our whole lives. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IN TALL GRASS by CARL SANDBURG PICCADILLY CIRCUS AT NIGHT: STREETWALKERS by DAVID HERBERT LAWRENCE IN A COPY OF OMAR KHAYYAM by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL POLLY BE-EN UPZIDES WI' TOM by WILLIAM BARNES ODE ON LORD HAY'S BIRTHDAY by JAMES BEATTIE ARTHUR AND ALBINA by MATILDA BARBARA BETHAM-EDWARDS |