Poem by Robert Herrick

When He Would Have His Verses Read

In sober mornings, do not thou rehearse
The holy incantation of a verse;
But when that men have both well drunk and fed,
Let my enchantments then be sung or read.
When laurel spirts i'th' fire, and when the hearth
Smiles to itself, and gilds the roof with mirth;
When up the thyrse is rais'd, and when the sound
Of sacred orgies flies, a round, a round.
When the rose reigns, and locks with ointments shine,
Let rigid Cato read these lines of mine.

1. Upon Mrs Eliz. Wheeler, under the Name of Amarillis
2. The Lily in a Crystal
3. Upon Love: By Way of Question and Answer
4. Orpheus
5. To the Water-Nymphs Drinking at the Fountain

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