WHY, Harry, what ails you, why look you so sad? To think and ne'er drink, will make you stark mad. 'Tis the mistress, the friend, and the bottle, old boy, Which create all the pleasure poor mortals enjoy; But wine of the three is the most cordial brother, For one it relieves, and it strengthens the other. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GUNS AS KEYS: AND THE GREAT GATE SWINGS by AMY LOWELL CITY VIGNETTE: RAIN AT NIGHT by SARA TEASDALE THE MONK IN THE KITCHEN by ANNA HEMPSTEAD BRANCH LIMBO by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE THE PRIMROSE by ROBERT HERRICK EXTRACTS FROM AN OPERA: 2. DAISY'S SONG by JOHN KEATS |