A poem by William Bliss Carman

They that eat the uncrushed grape
Walk with steady heels:
Lo, now, how they stare and gape
Where the poet reels!
He has drunk the sheer divine
Concentration of the vine.

Reader Comments

Tell us what you think of 'Distillation.' by William Bliss Carman

comments powered by Disqus

Home | Search | About this website | Contact | Privacy Policy