Day And Night My Thoughts Incline
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Richard Henry Stoddard
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Day and night my thoughts incline
To the blandishments of wine:
Jars were made to drain, I think,
Wine, I know, was made to drink.
When I die (the day be far!),
Should the potters make a jar
Out of this poor clay of mine,
Let the jar be filled with wine!
Kamu malı: şairin ölümünün üzerinden 70 yıldan fazla geçti.
Bu şiiri puanla
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