Farewell, my Mistress! I'll be gone! I have friends to wait upon! Think you, I'll myself confine To your humours, Lady mine? No! Your lowering looks do say, "'Twill be a rainy drinking day; To the Tavern let's away!" There have I a mistress got Cloistered in a Pottle Pot! Plump and bounding, soft and fair, Buxom, sweet and debonair; And they call her "Sack," my Dear! ... | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DOMESDAY BOOK: FATHER WHIMSETT by EDGAR LEE MASTERS WAR IS KIND: 1 by STEPHEN CRANE STRANGE HURT [SHE KNOWS] by JAMES LANGSTON HUGHES RIDDLE: A CANDLE by MOTHER GOOSE THE SWING by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON |