WATER bring, and bring me wine, Bring the wreaths where flowers entwine; Hasten, lad; our fists we try, Matched together, Love and I. Come, a wassail I would keep, Drinking pledges flagon-deep. Pour me wine, five measures, lad; Measures ten of water add; So good manners shall remain In your Bacchant, foxed again. Drink, good fellows, drink no more With a clutter and uproar; Thus, when Scythians hold a bout, Wine goes in and tongues let out. Gentlemen observe a mean, Tippling with good songs between. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE MEASURE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TWENTY-FOUR HOKKU ON A MODERN THEME by AMY LOWELL CONTRA MORTEM: THE TREES by HAYDEN CARRUTH JOURNEY TO A KNOWN PLACE by HAYDEN CARRUTH THE SEASONS by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON A GUY I KNOW ON 47TH AND COTTAGE by CLARENCE MAJOR |