Poems (Kennedy)/Scuppernong Wine
SCUPPERNONG WINE
(SONG)
'TIS prisoned here in my lifted glass, The amber shine of the sunThat glowed to wine as the days went by Ere the summer's reign was done.It wove the story of morns and eves Like ebon and silver bars,But ever it holds the light of the sun And not of the cold white stars.
Then fill the glass to the crystal brim And let sweet memories rise, As we toast a friend of the long ago Or drink to a sweetheart's eyes.
The rare, red wine that the mad world quaffs Warms the pulse to a quick, fierce beat,But the liquid gold in the goblet there Is keeper of fancies sweet.And a dream comes out of the misty years With a rare, insistent grace Of a grapevine swing in a leafy dell And a girl who had your face!
Then fill the glass to the crystal brim And let sweet memories rise, As we toast a friend of the long ago Or drink to a sweetheart's eyes.