YET more, -- round many a Convent's blazing fire Unhallowed threads of revelry are spun; There Venus sits disguised like a Nun, -- While Bacchus, clothed in semblance of a Friar, Pours out his choicest beverage high and higher Sparkling, until it cannot choose but run Over the bowl, whose silver lip hath won An instant kiss of masterful desire -- To stay the precious waste. Through every brain The domination of the sprightly juice Spreads high conceits to madding Fancy dear, Till the arched roof, with resolute abuse Of its grave echoes, swells a choral strain, Whose votive burthen is -- "OUR KINGDOM'S HERE!" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CHILD OF MY HEART by EDWIN MARKHAM GOD'S GARDEN by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON A SWEET NOSEGAY: AUTHOR MAKETH HER WILL & TESTAMENT: A COMMUNICATION . by ISABELLA WHITNEY SHADOWS by WILLIAM HERVEY ALLEN JR. GRISELDA: CHAPTER 2 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |