Emily Dickinson

We bee And I live By The Quaffing

poem 230

We Bee and I live by the quaffing ‘Tisn’t all Hock with us Life has its Ale But it’s many a lay of the Dim Burgundy We chant for cheer when the Wines fail Do we get drunk? Ask the jolly Clovers! Do we beat our Wife? I never wed Bee pledges his in minute flagons Dainty as the trees on our deft Head While runs the Rhine He and I revel First at the vat and latest at the Vine Noon our last Cup Found dead of Nectar By a humming Coroner In a By-Thyme!

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