THE GRAPES OF ESHCOL
BY EMILY HUNTINGTON MILLER
WITH DECORATIONS BY FRANK VINCENT DU MOND
I HAVE not entered in: across my way,
Shining and deep, a silent river lies;
But sometimes, in the dawning of the day,
I see the vision of its vineyards rise.
And once, when Joy and I walked hand in hand,
One passed, his staff with purple clusters bent;
The winey juices dripped along the sand,