I.

I SAW a tiny flask of wine
An Angel held, 'twas rare and fine

A little golden round of light,
With every dainty picture dight.

Upon its sculptured sides I found
Both joy and woe, close linked around

I wondered at the goblet fine,
The gleaming gold, the little wine.

The Angel said; " This flask I hold
Is more to man than simple gold,

" Or rosy nectar; here are found —
Within its fair and golden round —

" Great drops of blood that yield a life
With every dainty pleasure rife;

" Nor lacks it woe at times; and here
Are stored the secrets of a year.

II.

" These pearls " — the Angel's delicate hand
A dozen radiant pearls it spanned —

" Are months, that will the goblet load
Until the rim is overflowed:

" The crimson flood is crowded up
Until the year's end fills the cup. "

And having said, the Angel spilled
A single pearl, the inner gild

Was deeper buried in the hue
Of crimson. Said the Angel: " View!

" A pearl is dropped, a time has flown,
The secret of a month is known. "

Then fell another; others still
Close followed this, and this, until

The crimson flood rose bubbling up —
Each pearl-drop deeper filled the cup —

And rosily just brimmed the top.
But one more pearl was left to drop.

III.

I looked. Her fingers loosed, it falls —
The round of golden-gleaming walls

Are sunk below the crimson line —
The buried pearl has spilled the wine.

The Angel set the cup aside;
I asked: " Why this? " and quick replied

The radiant spirit, reaching up
To clasp another ready cup:

" Each pearl-month i' the goblet falls,
The life-blood climbs the golden walls

" Until the rim is reached, and here
Is broke the bubble of the year.

" The gems have run the goblet o'er,
The wine is richer for the store:

" The pearls are spilled, the months have flown,
The secrets of a year are known. "