From sun-soaked vines the grapes are plucked with care 
And brought to press where juice and skins are crushed 
Then left to ferment in the oak-lined lair 
Where time and yeast the nectar sweetly hush 

The bottles filled and sealed with cork and wax 
Are stored in cellars cool and dark and still 
Where slowly they mature and age and relax 
Until they reach their peak of taste and skill 

And then they grace the table of the wise 
Who pair them well with cheese and bread to eat 
And sip them slowly with delight and sighs 
And savor every drop of flavor sweet 

Oh wine, thou art the gift of sun and earth 
Thou fill’st our hearts with joy and warmth and mirth

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