[Written for the Sentinel.]

"THE VINE"

Burden of beauty, joy of luscious leaves,And purple fruits of rich caparison,And honey scent and hum of honey thieves,And sweet enchantment of the golden sun—These are my dowry, and in every raceMen give me deference due, and pride of place.

They make them arbors of these boughs of mine,And staves and stools and hundred household things:My harvest horn of vintage nectarineIs freely poured for peasants and for kings:And men would drink, for better or for worse,A boon or bane, a blessing or a curse.

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FROM OUR EXCHANGES
January 21, 1911
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