Poems (Kennedy)/Scuppernong Wine
Jump to navigation
Jump to search
SCUPPERNONG WINE
(SONG)
'TIS prisoned here in my lifted glass,
The amber shine of the sun
That 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.
The amber shine of the sun
That 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.
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!
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.
And let sweet memories rise,
As we toast a friend of the long ago
Or drink to a sweetheart's eyes.