To Sir Clipseby Crew

Give me wine, and give me meate,
To create in me a heate,
That my Pulses high may beate.

Cold and hunger never yet
Co'd a noble Verse beget;
But your Boules with Sack repleat.

Give me these (my Knight) and try
In a Minutes space how I
Can runne mad, and Prophesie.

Then if any Peece proves new,
And rare, Ile say (my dearest Crew)
It was full enspir'd by you.
Rate this poem: 


No reviews yet.