Oliver Wendell Holmes
A Sentiment - Poem by Oliver Wendell Holmes
The pledge of Friendship! it is still divine,
Though watery floods have quenched its burning wine;
Whatever vase the sacred drops may hold,
The gourd, the shell, the cup of beaten gold,
Around its brim the hand of Nature throws
A garland sweeter than the banquetâ€™s rose.
Bright are the blushes of the vine-wreathed bowl,
Warm with the sunshine of Anacreonâ€™s soul,
But dearer memories gild the tasteless wave
That fainting Sidney perished as he gave.
â€™T is the heartâ€™s current lends the cup its glow,
Whateâ€™er the fountain whence the draught may flow,â€”Â
The diamond dew-drops sparkling through the sand,
Scooped by the Arab in his sunburnt hand,
Or the dark streamlet oozing from the snow,
Where creep and crouch the shuddering Esquimaux;
Ay, in the stream that, ere again we meet,
Shall burst the pavement, glistening at our feet,
And, stealing silent from its leafy hills,
Thread all our alleys with its thousand rills,â€”Â
In each pale draught if generous feeling blend,
And oâ€™er the goblet friend shall smile on friend,
Even cold Cochituate every heart shall warm,
And genial Nature still defy reform!
Comments about A Sentiment by Oliver Wendell Holmes
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.