I'M none of those -- Oh Bacchus, blush! That eat sour pickles with their beer, To keep their brains and bellies cold; Ashamed to let one laughing tear Escape their hold. For only just to smell your hops Can make me fat and laugh all day, With appetite for bread and meat: I'll not despise bruised apples, they Make cider sweet. 'Tis true I only eat to live, But how I live to drink is clear; A little isle of meat and bread, In one vast sea of foaming beer, And I'm well fed. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A HUNDRED COLLARS by ROBERT FROST THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 88. A DAY IN SUSSEX by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT LINES ON OBSERVING A BLOSSOM [ON THE FIRST OF FEBRUARY 1796] by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE GULF-WEED by CORNELIUS GEORGE FENNER THE DOUBLE-HEADED SNAKE OF NEWBURY by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER THE CANDLE by GHALIB IBN RIBAH AL-HAJJAM A JAPANESE DWARF TREE by ISABEL ANDERSON THE ARGONAUTS (ARGONATUICA): THE MOVING ROCKS by APOLLONIUS RHODIUS |