My Pretty Rose Tree
by William Blake (1757-1827)
See Beadshaper
A flower was offered to me:
Such a flower as May never bore.
But I said "I've a Pretty Rose-tree",
And I passed the sweet flower o'er.
Then I went to my Pretty Rose-tree:
To tend her by day and by night.
But my Rose turn'd away with jealousy:
And her thorns were my only delight.
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
Sunday, December 4, 2011
Hilaire Belloc
Heroic Poem in Praise of Wine
by Hilaire Belloc (1870-1953)
To exalt, enthrone, establish and defend,
To welcome home mankind's mysterious friend
Wine, true begetter of all arts that be;
Wine, privilege of the completely free;
Wine the recorder; wine the sagely strong;
Wine, bright avenger of sly-dealing wrong,
Awake, Ausonian Muse, and sing the vineyard song!
See Beadshaper
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