George Santayana (16 December 1863 - 26 September 1952 / Madrid)
See this bowl of purple wine,
Life-blood of the lusty vine!
All the warmth of summer suns
In the vintage liquid runs,
All the glow of winter nights
Plays about its jewel lights,
Thoughts of time when love was young
Lurk its ruby drops among,
And its deepest depths are dyed
With delight of friendship tried.
Worthy offering, I ween,
For a god or for a queen,
Is the draught I pour to thee,--
Comfort of all misery,
Single friend of the forlorn,
Haven of all beings born,
Hope when trouble wakes at night,
And when naught delights, delight.
Holy Death, I drink to thee;
Do not part my friends and me.
Take this gift, which for a night
Puts dull leaden care to flight,
Thou who takest grief away
For a night and for a day.
Poet Other Poems
- A Toast
- As in the Midst of Battle there is Room
- Before a Statue of Achilles
- Cape Cod
- I Would I Might Forget That I Am I
- Mont Brevent
- On a Piece of Tapestry
- Slow and Reluctant Was the Long Descent
- Slowly the Black Earth Gains
- Sonnet III
- Sonnet V
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.