A Selection from the Lyrical Poems of Robert Herrick

221. TO BACCHUS: A CANTICLE

     Whither dost thou hurry 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, enjoy not one!