Come, Send Round the Wine - The Moorings

Come, send round the wine, and leave points of belief

To simpleton sages, and reasoning fools;

This moment’s a flower too fair and brief

To be wither’d and stain’d by the dust of the schools

Your glass may be purple, and mine may be blue

But while they are fill’d from the same bright bowl

The fool that would quarrel for difference of hue

Deserves not the comfort they shed o’er the soul

Shall I ask the brave soldier who fights by my side

In the cause of mankind, if our creeds agree?

Shall I give up the friend I have valued and tried

If he kneel not before the same altar with me?

From the heretic girl of my soul should I fly

To seek somewhere else a more orthodox kiss?

No, perish the hearts, and the laws that try

Truth, valour, or love, by a standard like this!