Anacreontic - Poem by Robert Herrick
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.
Comments about Anacreontic by Robert Herrick
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.