My Cart 
Login 

Previous

Champagne, A Neo-Grec Refrain
by
Author Unknown


Next
 

Champagne, old Top,
Your jovial pop
Must stop; the Fates decree it.
We know the worst.
From July first
All thirst is cursed; so be it.
Yet shall no tear-drop trickle in the glass?
Nor mournful requiem voice one fond alas?
Hark from the tombs
A doleful cry!
Sahara looms.
We're going dry.


From Vanity Fair (July 1919).
Author and copyright unknown.

 




Post New Comment:
barbsteff:
Well, time to write poems about champagne, you bubbly drinkers!
Posted 10/20/2019 03:54 PM
KevinArnold:
Great find--thanks. Restraint might be in order but We're going dry.
Posted 10/20/2019 09:36 AM
cork:
One could get high on the rhymes alone.
Posted 10/20/2019 09:19 AM


Contents of this web site and all original text and images therein are copyright © by Your Daily Poem. All rights reserved.
As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. Purchasing books through any poet's Amazon links helps to support Your Daily Poem.
The material on this site may not be copied, reproduced, downloaded, distributed, transmitted, stored, altered, adapted,
or otherwise used in any way without the express written permission of the owner.