 | Pandora
|  |
|
Ode.
Come
, come Simonid, and Anacreon,
Come and laye your money to mine:
And let vs goe and finde out Corydon:
And be once dronke with new wine.
Boye: bring hyther the greatest glasse,
And fyll, though it runne tyll to morrowe.
Heere holde my Anacre-on quasse,
When we are droonke, we haue no sorrowe.
But first I would thy Bathyll were
Come with her Lute, that we might daunce.
And that our olde Ronsard of Fraunce,
With his Cassandra too were here.
And what sayst Simon'd shall we send,
For our Wenches, now at beginning:
Hâ, he that loues not Wine, and Women,
Will neuer make a holsome ende.
| Pandora
| |
|
