Verse > Anthologies > Samuel Kettell, ed. > Specimens of American Poetry
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Samuel Kettell, ed.  Specimens of American Poetry.  1829.
 
Song
By Edward Coate Pinkney (1802–1828)
 
WE break the glass, whose sacred wine
  To some beloved health we drain,
Lest future pledges, less divine,
  Should e’er the hallow’d toy profane;
And thus I broke a heart that poured        5
  Its tide of feeling out for thee,
In draughts, by after-times deplored,
  Yet dear to memory.
 
But still the old impassion’d ways
  And habits of my mind remain,        10
And still unhappy light displays
  Thine image chamber’d in my brain.
And still it looks as when the hours
  Went by like flights of singing birds,
On that soft chain of spoken flowers,        15
  And airy gems, thy words.
 
 
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