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Give Me Women, Wine, And Snuff - Poem by John Keats

GIVE me women, wine, and snuff
Untill I cry out "hold, enough!"
You may do so sans objection
Till the day of resurrection:
For, bless my beard, they aye shall be
My beloved Trinity.

Comments about Give Me Women, Wine, And Snuff by John Keats

  • Michael Walker 9/19/2019 10:07:00 PM

    'Women, wine and snuff'. Have never tried snuff, gave up wine
    and women gave up on me, I think. It's fine for Keats to love these three delights though.
    Reply

    2 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Prabir Gayen 12/21/2018 12:01:00 AM

    Extremely romantic poem with extraordinary skill and rhythm... Beautifully executed.. Awesome. Reply

    1 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Charity Nduhiu 8/29/2015 5:55:00 AM

    A sweet poem. I have liked it. Reply

    5 person liked.
    13 person did not like.
  • Ramesh T A 8/29/2015 3:21:00 AM

    Lover of love surely is in need of woman, drink and snuff to do his job well! Reply

    5 person liked.
    9 person did not like.
  • Roisin Murphy 5/23/2012 5:03:00 PM

    Women, wine and snuff; I guess time doesn't change all. ha. Lovely work Mr Keats. Reply

    13 person liked.
    8 person did not like.
  • Dr Hitesh Sheth 5/10/2009 12:06:00 AM

    Truly a man of few needs,
    Who abhors the wantons greed,
    he just demands wine, women and snuff
    To get it is not a job tough...............A Good Work..........
    Reply

    7 person liked.
    5 person did not like.
  • Gregory Collins 8/20/2008 3:33:00 AM

    time seems to only shovel out the dreamers, why? Reply

    5 person liked.
    1 person did not like.
  • Susan Witman 2/19/2008 4:55:00 PM

    I really like the second line, Until I cry out: Hold enough! And in the end even the temptations of man don't compare with the Trinity. And I do mean man.For it would seem that Keats in the end praise the Spiritual and..... Reply

    5 person liked.
    9 person did not like.
  • Don Suseelan 2/19/2008 5:53:00 AM

    blessed trinity - women, wine and snuff.200 years on I agree. that too coming from John Keats Reply

    10 person liked.
    2 person did not like.
Women Poems
  1. 1. Give Me Women, Wine, And Snuff
    John Keats
  2. 2. Beautiful Women
    Walt Whitman
  3. 3. Mary, Pity Women!
    Rudyard Kipling
  4. 4. Cigarettes And Whiskey And Wild, Wild Wo..
    Anne Sexton
  5. 5. The Laughter Of Women
    Lisel Mueller
  6. 6. 04. Beautiful Women
    john tiong chunghoo
  7. 7. Women And Roses
    Robert Browning
  8. 8. Epistle Ii: To A Lady (Of The Characters..
    Alexander Pope
  9. 9. Sonnet (Women Have Loved Before As I Lov..
    Edna St. Vincent Millay
  10. 10. The Lost Women
    Lucille Clifton
  11. 11. Glory Of Women
    Siegfried Sassoon
  12. 12. 4 All The Women/Girls Out There!
    Dislocated Heart
  13. 13. A Form Of Women
    Robert Creeley
  14. 14. Do You Love Women? ? ?
    ToddMichael St. Pierre
  15. 15. Women Of Courage
    Kathy L. Goings
  16. 16. To Women As Far As I'M Concerned
    David Herbert Lawrence
  17. 17. Harp Song Of The Dane Women
    Rudyard Kipling
  18. 18. Against Women Unconstant
    Geoffrey Chaucer
  19. 19. No Fault In Women
    Robert Herrick
  20. 20. I Love Sensual Women
    Daniil Ivanovich Kharms
  21. 21. Fearful Women
    Carolyn Kizer
  22. 22. Two Women
    Ella Wheeler Wilcox
  23. 23. Women
    Louise Bogan
  24. 24. Without Women
    Lovina Sylvia Chidi
  25. 25. There's Wisdom In Women
    Rupert Brooke
  26. 26. Lines On Hearing It Declared That No Wom..
    Mary Darby Robinson
  27. 27. Ballad Of Women I Love
    Eugene Field
  28. 28. Blessed Among Women --To The Signora Cai..
    Algernon Charles Swinburne
  29. 29. Lectures To Women On Physical Science
    James Clerk Maxwell
  30. 30. The Old Women
    Arthur Symons
  31. 31. Praise Women
    Lovina Sylvia Chidi
  32. 32. Spanish Women
    Robert William Service
  33. 33. Letters From Women Given Up For Adoption..
    Joanne Monte
  34. 34. In A World Of Beautiful Women
    Uriah Hamilton
  35. 35. Girls Vs. Women
    Christina E. Brown
  36. 36. Call Us Women
    Masiela Lusha
  37. 37. The Leaves Like Women Interchange
    Emily Dickinson
  38. 38. The Women Of The West
    George Essex Evans
  39. 39. Churching Of Women
    John Keble
  40. 40. Men And Women
    James Kenneth Stephen
  41. 41. My Ph Women Friends..A Tribute
    Meggie Gultiano
  42. 42. Women
    Dennis Bergeron
  43. 43. All The Wonderful Women Of Poem Hunter
    Rommel Filoteo
  44. 44. Lets Hear It For Women The Women Oppressed
    Francis Duggan
  45. 45. On A Fortification At Boston Begun By Wo..
    Benjamin Tompson
  46. 46. Women Are More Than Mere Objects Of Affe..
    Nadalia Bagratuni
  47. 47. Tribute To The Women
    Aldo Kraas
  48. 48. Are Women Weak?
    kwane Lamb
  49. 49. *** Women
    hari khabrani
  50. 50. A Women
    Otteri Selvakumar

Women Poems

  1. Beautiful Women

    WOMEN sit, or move to and fro- some old, some young; The young are beautiful- but the old are more beautiful than the young.

  2. Mary, Pity Women!

    You call yourself a man, For all you used to swear, An' leave me, as you can, My certain shame to bear? I 'ear! You do not care -- You done the worst you know. I 'ate you, grinnin' there. . . . Ah, Gawd, I love you so! Nice while it lasted, an' now it is over -- Tear out your 'eart an' good-bye to your lover! What's the use o' grievin', when the mother that bore you (Mary, pity women!) knew it all before you? It aren't no false alarm, The finish to your fun; You -- you 'ave brung the 'arm, An' I'm the ruined one; An' now you'll off an' run With some new fool in tow. Your 'eart? You 'aven't none. . . . Ah, Gawd, I love you so! When a man is tired there is naught will bind 'im; All 'e solemn promised 'e will shove be'ind 'im. What's the good o' prayin' for The Wrath to strike 'im (Mary, pity women!), when the rest are like 'im? What 'ope for me or -- it? What's left for us to do? I've walked with men a bit, But this -- but this is you. So 'elp me Christ, it's true! Where can I 'ide or go? You coward through and through! . . . Ah, Gawd, I love you so! All the more you give 'em the less are they for givin' -- Love lies dead, an' you cannot kiss 'im livin'. Down the road 'e led you there is no returnin' (Mary, pity women!), but you're late in learnin'! You'd like to treat me fair? You can't, because we're pore? We'd starve? What do I care! We might, but ~this~ is shore! I want the name -- no more -- The name, an' lines to show, An' not to be an 'ore. . . . Ah, Gawd, I love you so! What's the good o' pleadin', when the mother that bore you (Mary, pity women!) knew it all before you? Sleep on 'is promises an' wake to your sorrow (Mary, pity women!), for we sail to-morrow!

  3. The Laughter Of Women

    The laughter of women sets fire to the Halls of Injustice and the false evidence burns to a beautiful white lightness It rattles the Chambers of Congress and forces the windows wide open so the fatuous speeches can fly out The laughter of women wipes the mist from the spectacles of the old; it infects them with a happy flu and they laugh as if they were young again Prisoners held in underground cells imagine that they see daylight when they remember the laughter of women It runs across water that divides, and reconciles two unfriendly shores like flares that signal the news to each other What a language it is, the laughter of women, high-flying and subversive. Long before law and scripture we heard the laughter, we understood freedom.

  4. Cigarettes And Whiskey And Wild, Wild Women

    (from a song) Perhaps I was born kneeling, born coughing on the long winter, born expecting the kiss of mercy, born with a passion for quickness and yet, as things progressed, I learned early about the stockade or taken out, the fume of the enema. By two or three I learned not to kneel, not to expect, to plant my fires underground where none but the dolls, perfect and awful, could be whispered to or laid down to die. Now that I have written many words, and let out so many loves, for so many, and been altogether what I always was— a woman of excess, of zeal and greed, I find the effort useless. Do I not look in the mirror, these days, and see a drunken rat avert her eyes? Do I not feel the hunger so acutely that I would rather die than look into its face? I kneel once more, in case mercy should come in the nick of time.