WE go to the Golden Palace: We set out the jade cups. We summon the honoured guests To enter at the Golden Gate. They enter at the Golden Gate And go to the Golden Hall. In the Eastern Kitchen the meat is sliced and ready -- Roast beef and boiled pork and mutton. The Master of the Feast hands round the wine. The harp-players sound their clear chords. The cups are pushed aside and we face each other at chess: The rival pawns are marshalled rank against rank. The fire glows and the smoke puffs and curls; From the incense-burner rises a delicate fragrance. The clear wine has made our cheeks red; Round the table joy and peace prevail. May those who shared in this day's delight Through countless autumns enjoy like felicity. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NOT TRANSHISTORICAL DEATH, OR AT LEAST NOT QUITE by HAYDEN CARRUTH DOWN THE BROOK by ROBERT FROST LOVE'S MIRACLE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON KEATS TO FANNY BRAWNE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE STORY OF THE ASHES AND THE FLAME by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON DEDICATION OF THE FIRST SONNETS TO A FRIEND ... by GEORGE SANTAYANA |