dreamed 1648 by Robert Herrick
Me thought I saw (as I did dream in bed)
A crawling vine about Anacreon's head:
Flusht was his face; his hairs with oil did shine;
And as he spake, his mouth ran o'er with wine.
Tippled he was; and tippling lispt withal;
And lisping reeled, and reeling like to fall.
A young enchantress close by him did stand
Tapping his plump thighs with a myrtle wand:
She smil'd; he kist; and kissing, cull'd her too;
And being cup-shot, more he could not do.
For which (me thought) in pretty anger she
Snatcht off his crown, and gave the wreath to me:
Since when (me thinks) my brains about do swim,
And I am wild and wanton like to him.
Not bad for one sonnet--or dream. In a time when dreams were crimes.
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