|
|
Fragment: Wine Of The Fairies.
By Percy Bysshe Shelley
I am drunk with the honey wine
Of the moon-unfolded eglantine,
Which fairies catch in hyacinth bowls.
The bats, the dormice, and the moles
Sleep in the walls or under the sward
Of the desolate castle yard;
And when 'tis spilt on the summer earth
Or its fumes arise among the dew,
Their jocund dreams are full of mirth,
They gibber their joy in sleep; for few
Of the fairies bear those bowls so new!
Extra Info:
|
|
Printable Page
Add Your Thoughts on this poem.
This page viewed 349 times.
|
|
