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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.



Robert Herrick


Robert Herrick's other poems:
  1. The Changes: to Corinna
  2. The Apron of Flowers
  3. The Lily in a Crystal
  4. Lovers How They Come and Part
  5. The Kiss: A Dialogue


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