By seven vineyards on one hill
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;
For as summer leaves are bent and shake
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.
The Mystic
Witter Bynner
(1)
Poem topics: breath, spring, summer, wing, bird, wise, single, native, continually, I love you, I miss you, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
Submit Spanish Translation
Submit German Translation
Submit French Translation
Write your comment about The Mystic poem by Witter Bynner
Best Poems of Witter Bynner