Whither dost thou whorry 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, injoy not One. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE THANKSGIVING IN BOSTON HARBOR [JUNE 12, 1630] by HEZEKIAH BUTTERWORTH KNOW THYSELF by WILLIAM ARBUTHNOT MR. BARNEY MAGUIRE'S ACCOUNT OF THE CORONATION by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM SUMMER SONG: 1 by GEORGE BARKER |