When We Three Meet

A poem by James Whitcomb Riley

When we three meet? Ah! friend of mine
Whose verses well and flow as wine, -
My thirsting fancy thou dost fill
With draughts delicious, sweeter still
Since tasted by those lips of thine.

I pledge thee, through the chill sunshine
Of autumn, with a warmth divine,
Thrilled through as only I shall thrill
When we three meet.

I pledge thee, if we fast or dine,
We yet shall loosen, line by line,
Old ballads, and the blither trill
Of our-time singers - for there will
Be with us all the Muses nine
When we three meet.

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