I Wonder What The Vintners Buy One

I Wonder What The Vintners Buy One Half So Precious As The Stuff They Sell.

For In And Out, Above, About, Below, 'tis Nothing But A Magic Shadow-show, Played In A Box Whose Candle Is The Sun, Round Which We Phantom Figures Come And Go.

It’s Too Bad If A Heart Lacks Fire, And Is Deprived Of The Light Of A Heart Ablaze. The Day On Which You Are Without Passionate Love Is The Most Wasted Day Of Your Life.

So When That Angel Of The Darker Drink, At Last Shall Find You By The River-brink, And, Offering His Cup, Invite Your Soul Forth To Your Lips To Quaff-you Shall Not Shrink.

The Rose That Once Has Bloomed Forever Dies.