Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE GRAPES OF MALAGA, by FLORENCE WENNER First Line: In spain the grapes of malaga Last Line: To hell-draughts have been ground! Subject(s): Grapes; Malaga, Spain | ||||||||
In Spain the grapes of Malaga Grow on the sunny hills; Pale, firm-fleshed grapes of Malaga From which aroma spills. Men pressed the grapes of Malaga To drink white wine aglow! But all that comes from Malaga Now has a crimson flow. Men tread the firm-fleshed fruit of earth, Turning its white to red; They crush away its bead of mirth Fermenting death instead! They use a cup the gods would drain To drown the dream of Spain. Better the grapes of Malaga Unharvested had lain; Better the wine of Malaga Thus spilt on battle's mound Flowed still in vines of Malaga Beyond the battle's sound; For firm-fleshed grapes of Malaga, The sweet pale grapes of Malaga, To hell-draughts have been ground! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...YOUR PICNICS by FLORENCE WENNER ON HUNTINGDON'S 'MIRANDA' by SIDNEY LANIER PARADISE by FREDERICK WILLIAM FABER IMPRESSION by EDMUND WILLIAM GOSSE AN ESSAY ON CRITICISM by ALEXANDER POPE SONNET: 12 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE IMPROMPTU: TO FRANCES GARNET WOLSELEY by ALFRED AUSTIN COME UNTO ME by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD BRUCE CONSULTS HIS MEN by JOHN BARBOUR |
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