Classic and Contemporary Poetry
TO LIVE MERRILY AND TO TRUST TO GOOD VERSES, by ROBERT HERRICK Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: Now is the time for mirth Last Line: With endless life are crown'd. Variant Title(s): His Poets Subject(s): Poetry & Poets | ||||||||
Now is the time for mirth, Nor cheek, or tongue be dumbe: For with the flowrie earth, The golden pomp is come. The golden Pomp is come; For now each tree do's weare (Made of her Pap and Gum) Rich beads of Amber here. Now raignes the Rose, and now Th' Arabian Dew besmears My uncontrolled brow, And my retorted haires. Homer, this Health to thee, In Sack of such a kind, That it wo'd make thee see, Though thou wert ne'r so blind. Next, Virgil, Ile call forth, To pledge this second Health In Wine, whose each cup's worth An Indian Common-wealth. A Goblet next Ile drink To Ovid; and suppose, Made he the pledge, he'd think The world had all one Nose. Then this immensive cup Of Aromatike wine, Catullus, I quaffe up To that Terce Muse of thine. Wild I am now with heat; O Bacchus! coole thy Raies! Or frantick I shall eate Thy Thyrse, and bite the Bayes. Round, round, the roof do's run; And being ravisht thus, Come, I will drink a Tun To my Propertius. Now, to Tibullus, next, This flood I drink to thee: But stay; I see a Text, That this presents to me. Behold, Tibullus lies Here burnt, whose smal return Of ashes, scarce suffice To fill a little Urne. Trust to good Verses then; They onely will aspire, When Pyramids, as men, Are lost, i'th'funerall fire. And when all Bodies meet In Lethe to be drown'd; Then onely Numbers sweet, With endless life are crown'd. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ENVY OF OTHER PEOPLE'S POEMS by ROBERT HASS THE NINETEENTH CENTURY AS A SONG by ROBERT HASS THE FATALIST: TIME IS FILLED by LYN HEJINIAN OXOTA: A SHORT RUSSIAN NOVEL: CHAPTER 192 by LYN HEJINIAN LET ME TELL YOU WHAT A POEM BRINGS by JUAN FELIPE HERRERA JUNE JOURNALS 6/25/88 by JUAN FELIPE HERRERA FOLLOW ROZEWICZ by JUAN FELIPE HERRERA HAVING INTENDED TO MERELY PICK ON AN OIL COMPANY, THE POEM GOES AWRY by HICOK. BOB A CHRISTMAS CAROL, SUNG TO THE KING IN THE PRESENCE AT WHITEHALL by ROBERT HERRICK A MEDITATION FOR HIS MISTRESS by ROBERT HERRICK A TERNARIE OF LITTLES, UPON A PIPKIN OF JELLIE by ROBERT HERRICK |
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