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Robert Herrick (Роберт Геррик (Херрик))


The Invitation


To sup with thee thou didst me home invite,
And mad'st a promise that mine appetite
Should meet and tire, on such lautitious meat,
The like not Heliogabalus did eat:
And richer wine would'st give to me, thy guest,
Than Roman Sylla pour'd out at his feast.
I came, 'tis true, and look'd for fowl of price,
The bastard Phoenix; bird of Paradise;
And for no less than aromatic wine
Of maidens-blush, commix'd with jessamine.
Clean was the hearth, the mantle larded jet,
Which, wanting Lar and smoke, hung weeping wet;
At last i' th' noon of winter, did appear
A ragg'd soused neats-foot, with sick vinegar;
And in a burnish'd flagonet, stood by
Beer small as comfort, dead as charity.
At which amazed, and pond'ring on the food,
How cold it was, and how it chill'd my blood,
I curst the master, and I damn'd the souce,
And swore I'd got the ague of the house.
—Well, when to eat thou dost me next desire,
I'll bring a fever, since thou keep'st no fire.



Robert Herrick's other poems:
  1. His Teares to Thamasis
  2. To Sapho
  3. Shakespeare
  4. To the Genius of His House
  5. On Himself (Lost to the world; lost to myself)


Poems of another poets with the same name (Стихотворения других поэтов с таким же названием):

  • Percy Shelley (Перси Шелли) The Invitation ("BEST and brightest, come away!")
  • Robert Bloomfield (Роберт Блумфилд) The Invitation ("O for the strength to paint my joy once more!")
  • Thomas Dekker (Томас Деккер) The Invitation ("LIVE with me still, and all the measures")

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