Born I was to be old,
And for to die here;
After that, in the mould
Long for to lie here.
But before that day comes,
Still I be bousing;
For I know, in the tombs
There's no carousing. 

Added: Jun 8 2005 | Viewed: 460 times | Comments (0)

Poet: Robert Herrick
Poem: ANACREONTIC

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