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Robert Herrick - To Bacchus: A Canticle
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Whither dost thou hurry me,
Bacchus, being full of thee?
This way, that way, that way, this,—
Here and there a fresh Love is;
That doth like me, this doth please;
—Thus a thousand mistresses
I have now:  yet I alone,
Having all, enjoy not one!
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