BY CHARLES CORAN by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow: Summary, Meaning & Analysis
A speaker returns to a wine he cherished in his youth, only to discover it tastes sour.
The poem
Little sweet wine of Jurançon, You are dear to my memory still! With mine host and his merry song, Under the rose-tree I drank my fill. Twenty years after, passing that way, Under the trellis I found again Mine host, still sitting there au frais, And singing still the same refrain. The Jurançon, so fresh and bold, Treats me as one it used to know; Souvenirs of the days of old Already from the bottle flow, With glass in hand our glances met; We pledge, we drink. How sour it is Never Argenteuil piquette Was to my palate sour as this! And yet the vintage was good, in sooth; The self-same juice, the self-same cask! It was you, O gayety of my youth, That failed in the autumnal flask!
A speaker returns to a wine he cherished in his youth, only to discover it tastes sour. The wine itself hasn't changed; he has. This short, bittersweet poem captures how time robs us of the joy we once experienced, leaving the things themselves untouched. The true loss lies not in the bottle, but in the person sipping from it.
Line-by-line
Little sweet wine of Jurançon, / You are dear to my memory still!
Twenty years after, passing that way, / Under the trellis I found again
The Jurançon, so fresh and bold, / Treats me as one it used to know;
With glass in hand our glances met; / We pledge, we drink. How sour it is!
And yet the vintage was good, in sooth; / The self-same juice, the self-same cask!
Tone & mood
The tone begins with a warm, nostalgic, and almost playful vibe, then shifts into a subtle disappointment before settling into a more genuine and melancholic feeling. There's no sense of self-pity — the speaker understands his situation clearly. The cheerful atmosphere of wine-drinking makes the sadness hit even harder, much like how a minor chord in a mostly happy song can take you by surprise.
Symbols & metaphors
- The wine (Jurançon) — The wine represents youth—those once-vivid and sweet pleasures. It remains unchanged, which is the point: the world continues to present the same gifts, but we lose our ability to appreciate them as we once did.
- The sourness — The sour taste captures the feeling of time slipping away. It highlights the distance between the person the speaker used to be and who he has become — a distance that no fine wine can bridge.
- The autumnal flask — Autumn marks the onset of decline and the arrival of winter, symbolizing old age and death. The flask represents both the bottle and the speaker’s body—a vessel that once contained joy but has now become cold and devoid of it.
- The host singing the same refrain — The constant host and his song symbolize how the external world remains indifferent to personal aging. Life continues to repeat itself; it’s only the individual traveler who changes with the years.
- The rose-tree and trellis — These details of the inn garden bring to mind a vibrant, cared-for joy — the sort of simple, sun-drenched happiness that feels youthful. Their return twenty years later highlights how the place remains unchanged, even as the speaker has not.
Historical context
This poem is Longfellow's translation of a work by the French poet Charles Coran, which is reflected in the title "By Charles Coran." Longfellow was a prolific translator who introduced a vast array of European poetry to English readers, and this brief lyric aligns perfectly with the French tradition of light verse — the chanson — that employs themes of wine, food, and camaraderie to convey deeper emotions. Jurançon is a legitimate wine region from the Basque foothills of the Pyrenees, celebrated for its sweet white wines, while Argenteuil piquette was known for being cheap and low-quality. Throughout his career, Longfellow published numerous translations, and his sensitivity to the bittersweet tone of French lyric poetry shines through in this piece. The poem is part of a longstanding tradition of carpe diem and *ubi sunt* poetry — works that ponder "where has it all gone?" — tracing a lineage from Horace to Ronsard and Villon.
FAQ
On the surface, it's about a man who returns to a beloved inn after twenty years, only to discover that the wine he once adored now tastes sour. However, the twist in the final stanza uncovers the true theme: the wine is perfectly fine. It's his own youthful joy — his ability to experience delight — that has diminished with age.
No. The title clearly states: "By Charles Coran." Longfellow translated it from French. He was a key translator of European poetry in 19th-century America, and this work is his English version of Coran's original lyric.
Jurançon is a genuine wine from the Pyrenees region in southwestern France, known for its sweet and aromatic qualities. Mentioning a specific wine instead of a generic one adds a personal touch to the memory — you can almost taste what the speaker is reminiscing about.
It operates on two levels. On a literal level, autumn represents harvest season—a time of abundance but also a period of decline leading into winter. On a figurative level, the speaker is like the flask: a vessel that has aged beyond its best. His "gayety"—the youthful joy he once had—has faded away like a wine that has lost its freshness.
Piquette is a low-quality wine created by re-fermenting grape skins with water — basically, the leftovers. Argenteuil, a town close to Paris, was known for its inexpensive table wine. When someone says the Jurançon is sourer than Argenteuil piquette, they're highlighting just how surprising and intense their disappointment is.
It's structured in quatrains — four-line stanzas — with a relaxed ABAB rhyme scheme and a lively, song-like rhythm reminiscent of the French chanson tradition. The light, almost cheerful form amplifies the impact of the melancholy conclusion.
It implies that the outside world remains unchanged—the inn, the host, and the song are all just as they were. This contrast emphasizes the speaker's inner transformation, highlighting a sense of isolation. While everyone else appears stuck in time, only he has grown older.
It's more aligned with the tradition known as *ubi sunt* — Latin for "where are they now?" — which laments what has gone rather than encouraging us to live in the moment. The speaker isn't advised to drink up while he has the chance; he's already missed that opportunity. The joy has faded, and all he can do is notice its absence.