Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

(27 February 1807 – 24 March 1882 / Portland, Maine)

In The Harbour: The Wine Of Jurançon. (From The French Of Charles Coran) - Poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Little sweet wine of Jurançon,
You are dear to my memory still!
With mine host and his merry song,
Under the rose-tree I drank my fill.

Twenty years after, passing that way,
Under the trellis I found again
Mine host, still sitting there au frais,
And singing still the same refrain.

The Jurançon, so fresh and bold,
Treats me as one it used to know;
Souvenirs of the days of old
Already from the bottle flow,

With glass in hand our glances met;
We pledge, we drink. How sour it is
Never Argenteuil piquette
Was to my palate sour as this!

And yet the vintage was good, in sooth;
The self-same juice, the self-same cask!
It was you, O gayety of my youth,
That failed in the autumnal flask!


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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, March 30, 2010



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