To James Corry On His Making Me A Present Of A Wine Strainer

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Title:     To James Corry On His Making Me A Present Of A Wine Strainer
Author: Thomas Moore [More Titles by Moore]

BRIGHTON, JUNE, 1825.

This life, dear Corry, who can doubt?--
Resembles much friend Ewart's[1] wine,
When _first_ the rosy drops come out,
How beautiful, how clear they shine!
And thus awhile they keep their tint,
So free from even a shade with some,
That they would smile, did you but hint,
That darker drops would _ever_ come.

But soon the ruby tide runs short,
Each minute makes the sad truth plainer,
Till life, like old and crusty port,
When near its close, requires a strainer.

_This_ friendship can alone confer,
Alone can teach the drops to pass,
If not as bright as _once_ they were,
At least unclouded, thro' the glass.

Nor, Corry, could a boon be mine.
Of which this heart were fonder, vainer,
Than thus, if life grow like old wine,
To have _thy_ friendship for its strainer.

NOTE:
[1] A wine-merchant.

[The end]
Thomas Moore's poem: To James Corry On His Making Me A Present Of A Wine Strainer

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