S
Shai Gar
Dreaming when Dawn's Left Hand was in the Sky
I heard a Voice within the Tavern cry,
"Awake, my Little ones, and fill the Cup
Before Life's Liquor in its Cup be dry."
---
As the Cock crew, those who stood before
The Tavern shouted - "Open then the Door!
You know how little while we have to stay,
And, once departed, may return no more."
---
"How sweet the mortal sovranty!" - think some:
Others - "How blest the Paradise to come!"
Ah, take the Cash in hand and wave the Rest;
Oh, the brave Music of a distant Drum!"
---
Lo! some we loved, the loveliest and the best
That Time and Fate of all their Vintage prest,
Have drunk their cup a round or two before,
And one by one crept silently to their Rest.
---
How long, how long in infinite Pursuit
Of This or That endeavor or dispute?
Better be merry with the fruitful Grape
Than sadden after none, or bitter, Fruit.
---
Said one - "Folks of a surly Tapster tell,
And daub his visage with the Smoke of Hell;
They talk of some strict testing of us - Pish!
He's a Good Fellow, and twill all be well."
Once you've guessed, or within 8 replies we can start discussing the poet and I'll change the name of this thread to the Authors name.
Don't cheat. Give us your first thought based on the poems alone.
I heard a Voice within the Tavern cry,
"Awake, my Little ones, and fill the Cup
Before Life's Liquor in its Cup be dry."
---
As the Cock crew, those who stood before
The Tavern shouted - "Open then the Door!
You know how little while we have to stay,
And, once departed, may return no more."
---
"How sweet the mortal sovranty!" - think some:
Others - "How blest the Paradise to come!"
Ah, take the Cash in hand and wave the Rest;
Oh, the brave Music of a distant Drum!"
---
Lo! some we loved, the loveliest and the best
That Time and Fate of all their Vintage prest,
Have drunk their cup a round or two before,
And one by one crept silently to their Rest.
---
How long, how long in infinite Pursuit
Of This or That endeavor or dispute?
Better be merry with the fruitful Grape
Than sadden after none, or bitter, Fruit.
---
Said one - "Folks of a surly Tapster tell,
And daub his visage with the Smoke of Hell;
They talk of some strict testing of us - Pish!
He's a Good Fellow, and twill all be well."
Once you've guessed, or within 8 replies we can start discussing the poet and I'll change the name of this thread to the Authors name.
Don't cheat. Give us your first thought based on the poems alone.