Poem by Robert Herrick

An Ode to Sir Clipsby Crew

Here we securely live, and eat
The cream of meat;
And keep eternal fires,
By which we sit, and do divine,
As wine
And rage inspires.

If full, we charm; then call upon
Anacreon
To grace the frantic Thyrse:
And having drunk, we raise a shout
Throughout,
To praise his verse.

Then cause we Horace to be read,
Which sung or said,
A goblet, to the brim,
Of lyric wine, both swell'd and crown'd,
Around
We quaff to him.

Thus, thus we live, and spend the hours
In wine and flowers;
And make the frolic year,
The month, the week, the instant day
To stay
The longer here.

—Come then, brave Knight, and see the cell
Wherein I dwell;
And my enchantments too;
Which love and noble freedom is:—
And this
Shall fetter you.

Take horse, and come; or be so kind
To send your mind,
Though but in numbers few:—
And I shall think I have the heart
Or part
Of Clipsby Crew.

1. To My Ill Reader
2. Kisses Loathsome
3. To Julia in the Temple
4. The Bracelet to Julia
5. To Dianeme (I could but see thee yesterday)

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