Henry Wadsworth Longfellow's poem: The Wine of Jurancon

Translations by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
From the French - Poems - The Wine of Jurancon
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The Wine of Jurancon BY CHARLES CORAN Little sweet wine of Jurancon, 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 Jurancon, 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! Content: From the French: The Wine of Jurancon [Henry Wadsworth Longfellow's poem Translations] Read next: From the French#Poems#Friar Lubin Read previous: From the French#Poems#A Quiet Life Table of content of Translations GO TO TOP OF SCREEN Post your review Your review will be placed after the table of content of this book

Translations by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow