An Ode To Sir Clipseby Crew

Here we securely live and eat
    The cream of meat,
  And keep eternal fires,
By which we sit, and do divine
      As wine
    And rage inspires.

If full we charm, then call upon
    Anacreon
  To grace the frantic thyrse;
And having drunk, we raise a shout
      Throughout
    To praise his verse.

Then cause we Horace to be read,
    Which sung, or said,
  A goblet to the brim
Of lyric wine, both swell’d and crown’d,
      Around
    We quaff to him.

Thus, thus we live, and spend the hours
    In wine and flowers,
  And make the frolic year,
The month, the week, the instant day
      To stay
    The longer here.

Come then, brave knight, and see the cell
    Wherein I dwell,
  And my enchantments too,
Which love and noble freedom is;
      And this
    Shall fetter you.

Take horse, and come, or be so kind
    To send your mind,
  Though but in numbers few,
And I shall think I have the heart,
      Or part
    Of Clipseby Crew.
An Ode To Sir Clipseby Crew

by Robert Herrick, 1648
