All Poems

/ page 2857 of 3210 /

Order by :

Discontents In Devon

© Robert Herrick

More discontents I never had
Since I was born, than here;
Where I have been, and still am, sad,
In this dull Devonshire.

Upon Prew His Maid

© Robert Herrick

In this little Urne is laid
Prewdence Baldwin (once my maid)
From whose happy spark here let
Spring the purple violet.

Upon Mrs Eliz. Wheeler, Under The Name Ofamarillis

© Robert Herrick

Sweet Amarillis, by a spring's
Soft and soul-melting murmurings,
Slept; and thus sleeping, thither flew
A Robin-red-breast; who at view,

To His Lovely Mistresses

© Robert Herrick

One night i'th' year, my dearest Beauties, come,
And bring those dew-drink-offerings to my tomb;
When thence ye see my reverend ghost to rise,
And there to lick th' effused sacrifice,

Want

© Robert Herrick

Want is a softer wax, that takes thereon,
This, that, and every base impression,

Proof to No Purpose

© Robert Herrick

You see this grntle stream that glides,
Shoved on, by quick-succeeding tides:
Try if this sober stream you can
Follow to th' wider ocean,

Anacreontic

© Robert Herrick

Born I was to be old,
And for to die here;
After that, in the mould
Long for to lie here.

When He Would Have His Verses Read

© Robert Herrick

In sober mornings, do not thou rehearse
The holy incantation of a verse;
But when that men have both well drunk, and fed,
Let my enchantments then be sung or read.

Things Mortal Still Mutable

© Robert Herrick

Things are uncertain; and the more we get,
The more on icy pavements we are set.

The Bleeding Hand; Or The Sprig Of Eglantine Given To A Maid

© Robert Herrick

From this bleeding hand of mine,
Take this sprig of Eglantine:
Which, though sweet unto your smell,
Yet the fretful briar will tell,
He who plucks the sweets, shall prove
Many thorns to be in love.

To Sapho

© Robert Herrick

Sapho, I will chuse to go
Where the northern winds do blow
Endless ice, and endless snow;
Rather than I once would see
But a winter's face in thee,--
To benumb my hopes and me.

His Winding-sheet

© Robert Herrick

Come thou, who art the wine and wit
Of all I've writ;
The grace, the glory, and the best
Piece of the rest;

To Silvia

© Robert Herrick

Pardon my trespass, Silvia! I confess
My kiss out-went the bounds of shamefacedness:--
None is discreet at all times; no, not Jove
Himself, at one time, can be wise and love.

His Covenant Or Protestation To Julia

Why dost thou wound and break my heart,
As if we should for ever part?
Hast thou not heard an oath from me,
After a day, or two, or three,

To Oenone

WHAT conscience, say, is it in thee,
When I a heart had one,
To take away that heart from me,
And to retain thy own?

The Parliament Of Roses To Julia

I dreamt the Roses one time went
To meet and sit in Parliament;
The place for these, and for the rest
Of flowers, was thy spotless breast.

His Age:dedicated To His Peculiar Friend,mr John Wickes, Under The Name Ofpostumus

Ah, Posthumus! our years hence fly
And leave no sound: nor piety,
Or prayers, or vow
Can keep the wrinkle from the brow;

The Plaudite, Or End Of Life

If after rude and boisterous seas
My wearied pinnace here finds ease;
If so it be I've gain'd the shore,
With safety of a faithful oar;

Peace Not Permanent

Great cities seldom rest; if there be none
T' invade from far, they'll find worse foes at home.

Begin to charm, and as thou strok'st mine ears
With thine enchantment, melt me into tears.
Then let thy active hand scud o'er thy lyre,
And make my spirits frantic with the fire;
That done, sink down into a silvery strain,
And make me smooth as balm and oil again.