DAY and night my thoughts incline To the blandishments of wine: Jars were made to drain, I think, Wine, I know, was made to drink. When I die, (the day be far!) Should the potters make a jar Out of this poor clay of mine, Let the jar be filled with wine! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PEACE ON EARTH by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON THE GARDEN AGAIN by KAREN SWENSON THE VIKING GRAVE AT LADBY by KAREN SWENSON THE NEW CHURCH ORGAN by WILLIAM MCKENDREE CARLETON THE BALLAD OF PROSE AND RHYME by HENRY AUSTIN DOBSON THE FISH, THE MAN, AND THE SPIRIT (COMPLETE) by JAMES HENRY LEIGH HUNT A SONG TO CELIA by CHARLES SEDLEY THE LOTOS-EATERS by ALFRED TENNYSON SONNET WRITTEN IN THE FALL OF 1914: 1 by GEORGE EDWARD WOODBERRY |