The Vine
THE wine of Love is music,
And the feast of Love is song:
And when Love sits down to the banquet,
Love sits long:
Sits long and arises drunken,
But not with the feast and the wine;
He reeleth with his own heart,
That great, rich Vine.
Poem by
James Thomson
Biography |
Poems
| Best Poems | Short Poems
| Quotes
|
Email Poem |
More Poems by James Thomson
Comments, Analysis, and Meaning on The Vine
Provide your analysis, explanation, meaning, interpretation, and comments on the poem The Vine here.
Commenting turned off, sorry.