Poem

We—Bee and I—live by the quaffing

Emily Dickinson
230 We—Bee and I—live by the quaffing— 'Tisn't all Hock—with us— Life has its Ale— But it's many a lay of the Dim Burgundy— We chant—for cheer—when the Wines—fail— Do we "get drunk"? Ask the jolly Clovers! Do we "beat" our "Wife"? I—never wed— Bee—pledges his—in minute flagons— Dainty—as the trees—on our deft Head— While runs the Rhine— He and I—revel— First—at the vat—and latest at the Vine— Noon—our last Cup— "Found dead"—"of Nectar"— By a humming Coroner— In a By-Thyme!

One poem every morning.

6,130 poems from Shakespeare to Tupac. Read one a day. Save the ones that stay.
Free on the App Store.