Witter Bynner: The Mystic
Updated September 23, 2019 |
Infoplease Staff
By seven vineyards on one hill
We walked. The native wine
In clusters grew beside us two,
For your lips and for mine,
We walked. The native wine
In clusters grew beside us two,
For your lips and for mine,
When, "Hark!" you said, — "Was that a bell
Or a bubbling spring we heard?"
But I was wise and closed my eyes
And listened to a bird;
Or a bubbling spring we heard?"
But I was wise and closed my eyes
And listened to a bird;
For as summer leaves are bent and shake
With singers passing through,
So moves in me continually
The wingèd breath of you.
With singers passing through,
So moves in me continually
The wingèd breath of you.
You tasted from a single vine
And took from that your fill —
But I inclined to every kind,
All seven on one hill.
And took from that your fill —
But I inclined to every kind,
All seven on one hill.
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