Explore "The Vintager" by Madison Cawein on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
/ Among the fragrant grapes she bows; / Long, violet clusters heap her hands; / About her satyr throats and brows / Flush at her smiled commands.
/ And from her sun-burnt throat at times, / As bubbles burst on new-made wine, / A happy fit of merry rhymes / Rings down the hills of vine.
/ From out one heart, remorseless sweet, / She plucked the big-grape passion there; / Trod in the wine-press of her feet, / It grew into despair:
/ Until she drained its honeyed must, / Which, tingling inward part by part, / Fierce mounted thro' her glowing bust / And centered in her heart.