I HATE the Persian's costly pride: The wreaths with bands of linden tied -- These, boy, delight me not; Nor where the lingering roses bide Seek thou for me the spot. For me be naught but myrtle twined -- The modest myrtle, sweet to bind Alike thy brows and mine, While thus I quaff the bowl, reclined Beneath th' o'erarching vine. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MUSIC AND MEMORY by JOHN ALBEE HOLY THURSDAY, FR. SONGS OF INNOCENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE A SMUGGLER'S SONG by RUDYARD KIPLING LITANY TO SATAN by CHARLES BAUDELAIRE THE BIRD FANCIER by WILLIAM ROSE BENET |