At the Tavern (by Paul Laurence Dunbar)


Paul Laurence Dunbar
Paul Laurence Dunbar, 1872-1906
(Dayton, Ohio)

At the Tavern

    A lilt and a swing,
    And a ditty to sing,
Or ever the night grow old;
    The wine is within,
    And I'm sure 't were a sin
For a soldier to choose to be cold, my dear,
For a soldier to choose to be cold.

    We're right for a spell,
    But the fever is—well,
No thing to be braved, at least;
    So bring me the wine;
    No low fever is mine,
For a drink is more kind than a priest, my dear,
For a drink is more kind than a priest.


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Comments

  • 2/3/2009 8:29 PM chris wrote:
    This makes it sound so romantic to drink.. Till you get to the last few lines... which seem to me to be sort of a punch line.
    "... for a drink is more kind than a priest."

    It implies a lot... i think.
    Reply to this
    1. 2/3/2009 8:41 PM Jesus Crisis wrote:
      Indeed!  In a sense it's different from the other Dunbar pieces I've posted here - but it's still as deep.  Thanks for your comment, Chris!
      Reply to this
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