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!
222. A HYMN TO BACCHUS
Bacchus, let me drink no more!
Wild are seas that want a shore!
When our drinking has no stint,
There is no one pleasure in't.
I have drank up for to please
Thee, that great cup, Hercules.
Urge no more; and there shall be
Daffadils giv'n up to thee.
223. A CANTICLE TO APOLLO
Play, Phoebus, on thy lute,
And we will sit all mute;
By listening to thy lyre,
That sets all ears on fire.
Hark, hark! the God does play!
And as he leads the way
Through heaven, the very spheres,
As men, turn all to ears!