Verse > Anthologies > Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. > An American Anthology, 1787–1900
Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908).  An American Anthology, 1787–1900.  1900.
128. Song
By Edward Coate Pinkney
WE break the glass, whose sacred wine
  To some beloved health we drain,
Lest future pledges, less divine,
  Should e’er the hallowed toy profane;
And thus I broke a heart that poured        5
  Its tide of feelings out for thee,
In draught, by after-times deplored,
  Yet dear to memory.
But still the old, impassioned ways
  And habits of my mind remain,        10
And still unhappy light displays
  Thine image chambered in my brain,
And still it looks as when the hours
  Went by like flights of singing birds,
Or that soft chain of spoken flowers        15
  And airy gems,—thy words.


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