George Santayana

Here you will find the Poem A Toast of poet George Santayana

A Toast

See this bowl of purple wine, 
Life-blood of the lusty vine! 
All the warmth of summer suns 
In the vintage liquid runs, 
All the glow of winter nights 
Plays about its jewel lights, 
Thoughts of time when love was young 
Lurk its ruby drops among, 
And its deepest depths are dyed 
With delight of friendship tried. 
Worthy offering, I ween, 
For a god or for a queen, 
Is the draught I pour to thee,-- 
Comfort of all misery, 
Single friend of the forlorn, 
Haven of all beings born, 
Hope when trouble wakes at night, 
And when naught delights, delight. 
Holy Death, I drink to thee; 
Do not part my friends and me. 
Take this gift, which for a night 
Puts dull leaden care to flight, 
Thou who takest grief away 
For a night and for a day.