Whither dost thou hurry me,
Bacchus, being full of thee?
This way, that way, that way, this,--
Here and there a fresh Love is;
That doth like me, this doth please;
--Thus a thousand mistresses
I have now: yet I alone,
Having all, enjoy not one!
More verses by Robert Herrick
- To Laurels
- Pardons
- His Age:Dedicated To His Peculiar Friend,Mr John Wickes, Under The Name Ofpostumus
- The Wassail
- To Silvia