WATER bring, and bring me wine, Bring the wreaths where flowers entwine; Hasten, lad; our fists we try, Matched together, Love and I. Come, a wassail I would keep, Drinking pledges flagon-deep. Pour me wine, five measures, lad; Measures ten of water add; So good manners shall remain In your Bacchant, foxed again. Drink, good fellows, drink no more With a clutter and uproar; Thus, when Scythians hold a bout, Wine goes in and tongues let out. Gentlemen observe a mean, Tippling with good songs between. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WIDOW MALONE by CHARLES JAMES LEVER THREE FRIENDS OF MINE: 5; SONNET by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW OPPORTUNITY by EDWARD ROWLAND SILL AN ESCAPE by LASCELLES ABERCROMBIE FOUR SONNETS: 3 by FRANK DAVIS ASHBURN THE FOUR SEASONS by PHILIP AYRES TO HIS MISTRESS by RICHARD BARNFIELD |