Fill A Glass With Golden Wine

William Ernest Henley

Fill a glass with golden wine,
And the while your lips are wet
Set their perfume unto mine,
And forget,
Every kiss we take and give
Leaves us less of life to live.

Yet again! Your whim and mine
In a happy while have met.
All your sweets to me resign,
Nor regret
That we press with every breath,
Sighed or singing, nearer death.

Next 10 Poems

• William Ernest Henley : Friends . . . Old Friends . . .
• William Ernest Henley : From A Window In Princes Street
• William Ernest Henley : Grave
• William Ernest Henley : Gulls In An Aery Morrice
• William Ernest Henley : House-surgeon
• William Ernest Henley : I Am The Reaper
• William Ernest Henley : I Gave My Heart To A Woman
• William Ernest Henley : I. M. R. G. C. B. 1878
• William Ernest Henley : I. M.-margaret Emma Henley ( 1888-1894 )
• William Ernest Henley : I. M.-margaritae Sorori

Previous 10 Poems

• William Ernest Henley : Etching
• William Ernest Henley : Envoy-to Charles Baxter
• William Ernest Henley : Enter Patient
• William Ernest Henley : England, My England
• William Ernest Henley : Double Ballade Of The Nothingness Of Things
• William Ernest Henley : Double Ballade Of Life And Fate
• William Ernest Henley : Discharged
• William Ernest Henley : Dedication-to My Wife
• William Ernest Henley : Crosses And Troubles A-many Have Proved Me
• William Ernest Henley : Croquis