Author Richard Henry Dana Remorse and fear he drowns in drink. “Come, pass the bowl, my jolly crew! It thicks the blood to mope and think. Here 's merry days, though few!”And then he quaffs.—So riot reigns within;So brawl and laughter shake that house of sin. Tags Short Poems Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments