In sober mornings, do not thou rehearse <br />The holy incantation of a verse; <br />But when that men have both well drunk, and fed, <br />Let my enchantments then be sung or read. <br />When laurel spirts i' th' fire, and when the hearth <br />Smiles to itself, and gilds the roof with mirth; <br />When up the Thyrse is raised, and when the sound <br />Of sacred orgies, flies A round, A round; <br />When the rose reigns, and locks with ointments shine, <br />Let rigid Cato read these lines of mine.<br /><br />Robert Herrick<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/when-he-would-have-his-verses-read/
