While the milder Fates consent, Let's enjoy our merryment: Drink, and dance, and pipe, and play; Kisse our Dollies night and day: Crown'd with clusters of the Vine; Let us sit, and quaffe our wine. Call on Bacchus; chaunt his praise; Shake the Thyrse, and bite the Bayes: Rouze Anacreon from the dead; And return him drunk to bed: Sing o're Horace; for ere long Death will come and mar the song: Then shall Wilson and Gotiere Never sing, or play more here. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO A FRIEND IN THE MAKING by MARIANNE MOORE THE VIKING GRAVE AT LADBY by KAREN SWENSON ASTROPHEL AND STELLA: 84 by PHILIP SIDNEY DIRGE by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH A PICTURE AT NEWSTEAD by MATTHEW ARNOLD THE PLOUGHMAN by KARLE WILSON BAKER |