Poem by Robert Herrick

A Lyric to Mirth

While the milder fates consent,
Let's enjoy our merriment :
Drink, and dance, and pipe, and play ;
Kiss our dollies night and day :
Crowned with clusters of the vine,
Let us sit, and quaff our wine.
Call on Bacchus, chant his praise ;
Shake the thyrse, and bite the bays :
Rouse Anacreon from the dead,
And return him drunk to bed :
Sing o'er Horace, for ere long
Death will come and mar the song :
Then shall Wilson and Gotiere
Never sing or play more here. 

1. To Anthea (Anthea, I am going hence)
2. The Rock of Rubies, and the Quarry of Pearls
3. His Last Request to Julia
4. To Sapho
5. Upon Julia's Ribbon

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