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ANACREONTICS.
Our Western bard so learned and neat,
And mellow and sweet,
And brimming over with quaint conceit,
Who has sung us lays of every land,
On every theme from the light to the grand,
Wishing well to me and mine,
Sends me this Sicilian wine.
Nine-and-twenty years ago,
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow,[1]
Passing delicate stems about,
Poured this wine for Hawthorne out.
Carl Benson, (How we apples swim!)
To finish the flask assisted him.
- ↑ It is to be hoped that the reader will appreciate the simple beauty of this couplet. The author considers it nearly up to Tupper and a long way ahead of Dr. Holland.
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