A BACCHIC ODE - by J. Bayard Taylor

A BACCHIC ODE by  J. Bayard Taylor   Wine! bring wine! Let the crystal beaker flame and shine, Brimming o’er with the draught divine!   The crimson glow Of the lifted cup on my forehead throw, Like the sunset’s flush on a field of snow!   I burn to lave My eager lip in the purple wave! Freedom bringeth the wine so brave!   The world is cold! Sorrow and Pain have gloomy hold, Chilling the bosom warm and bold!   Doubts and fears Veil the shine of my morning years! My life’s lone rainbow springs from tears!   But Eden-gleams Visit my soul in immortal dreams, When the wave of the goblet burns and beams!   Not from the Rhine Not from fields of Burgundian vine, Bring me the bright Olympian wine!   Not with a ray, Born where the winds of Shiraz play  Or the fiery blood of the ripe Tokay !    Not where the glee Of Falernian vintage echoes free Or the gardens of Scio gem the sea !   But wine! Bring wine ! Flushing high with its growth divine, In the crystal depth of my soul to shine!   Whose glow was caught From the warmth which Fancy’s summer brought To the vintage-fields in the Land of Thought!   Rich and free To my thirsting soul will the goblet be, Poured by the Hebe, Poesy ! GRAHAM’S MAGAZINE. July, 1847