Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson &
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
This poem was first published under the title “The May-Wine”, although Emily Dickinson didn’t give it a name during her lifetime. Today it is referred to by its first line.
The poem celebrates life and nature, using the metaphor of intoxication to represent joy and appreciation of beauty of the ma...
I taste a liquor never brewed --
From Tankards scooped in Pearl --
Not all the Vats upon the Rhine
Yield such an Alcohol!
Inebriate of Air -- am I --
And Debauchee of Dew --
Reeling -- thro endless summer days --
From inns of Molten Blue --
When "Landlords" turn the drunken Bee
Out of the Foxglove's door --
When Butterflies -- renounce their "drams" --
I shall but drink the more!
Till Seraphs swing their snowy Hats --
And Saints -- to windows run --
To see the little Tippler
Leaning against the -- Sun --