Poem by Robert Herrick

The Maypole

The May-pole is up,
Now give me the cup;
I'll drink to the garlands around it;
But first unto those
Whose hands did compose
The glory of flowers that crown'd it.

A health to my girls,
Whose husbands may earls
Or lords be, granting my wishes,
And when that ye wed
To the bridal bed,
Then multiply all, like to fishes.

1. To My Ill Reader
2. Kisses Loathsome
3. To Julia in the Temple
4. The Bracelet to Julia
5. His Last Request to Julia

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