All Poems

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The Voice And Viol

© Robert Herrick

Rare is the voice itself: but when we sing
To th' lute or viol, then 'tis ravishing.

His Grange, Or Private Wealth

© Robert Herrick

Though clock,
To tell how night draws hence, I've none,
A cock
I have to sing how day draws on:

Good Precepts, Or Counsel

© Robert Herrick

In all thy need, be thou possest
Still with a well prepared breast;
Nor let the shackles make thee sad;
Thou canst but have what others had.

The Fairy Temple; Or, Oberon's Chapel

RARE TEMPLES THOU HAST SEEN, I KNOW,
AND RICH FOR IN AND OUTWARD SHOW;
SURVEY THIS CHAPEL BUILT, ALONE,
WITHOUT OR LIME, OR WOOD, OR STONE.
THEN SAY, IF ONE THOU'ST SEEN MORE FINE
THAN THIS, THE FAIRIES' ONCE, NOW THINE.

The Night Piece, to Julia

© Robert Herrick

Her eyes the glow-worm lend thee,
The shooting stars attend thee;
And the elves also,
Whose little eyes glow
Like the sparks of fire, befriend thee.

The Hag

© Robert Herrick

The Hag is astride,
This night for to ride,
The devil and she together;
Through thick and through thin,
Now out, and then in,
Though ne'er so foul be the weather.

Not Every Day Fit For Verse

© Robert Herrick

'Tis not ev'ry day that I
Fitted am to prophesy:
No, but when the spirit fills
The fantastic pannicles,

His Request To Julia

© Robert Herrick

Julia, if I chance to die
Ere I print my poetry,
I most humbly thee desire
To commit it to the fire:
Better 'twere my book were dead,
Than to live not perfected.

The Old Wives' Prayer

© Robert Herrick

Holy-Rood, come forth and shield
Us i' th' city and the field;
Safely guard us, now and aye,
From the blast that burns by day;

The Apparition Of His, Mistress,calling Him To Elysium

© Robert Herrick

THE APPARITION OF HIS, MISTRESS,
CALLING HIM TO ELYSIUMDESUNT NONNULLA--Come then, and like two doves with silvery wings,
Let our souls fly to th' shades, wherever springs
Sit smiling in the meads; where balm and oil,

Pray And Prosper

© Robert Herrick

First offer incense; then, thy field and meads
Shall smile and smell the better by thy beads.
The spangling dew dredged o'er the grass shall be
Turn'd all to mell and manna there for thee.

To Phillis, To Love And Live With Him

© Robert Herrick

Live, live with me, and thou shalt see
The pleasures I'll prepare for thee:
What sweets the country can afford
Shall bless thy bed, and bless thy board.

To His Peculiar Friend, Mr John Wicks

© Robert Herrick

Since shed or cottage I have none,
I sing the more, that thou hast one;
To whose glad threshold, and free door
I may a Poet come, though poor;

To His Conscience

© Robert Herrick

Can I not sin, but thou wilt be
My private protonotary?
Can I not woo thee, to pass by
A short and sweet iniquity?

To His Paternal Country

O earth! earth! earth! hear thou my voice, and be
Loving and gentle for to cover me!
Banish'd from thee I live;--ne'er to return,
Unless thou giv'st my small remains an urn.

A Pastoral Sung To The King

MONTANO, SILVIO, AND MIRTILLO, SHEPHERDSMON. Bad are the times. SIL. And worse than they are we.
MON. Troth, bad are both; worse fruit, and ill the tree:
The feast of shepherds fail. SIL. None crowns the cup
Of wassail now, or sets the quintel up:

Upon The Detracter

I ask'd thee oft what poets thou hast read,
And lik'st the best? Still thou repli'st, The dead.
--I shall, ere long, with green turfs cover'd be;
Then sure thou'lt like, or thou wilt envy, me.

To The Genius Of His House

Command the roof, great Genius, and from thence
Into this house pour down thy influence,
That through each room a golden pipe may run
Of living water by thy benizon;

To Live Merrily, And To Trust To Good Verses

Now is the time for mirth,
Nor cheek or tongue be dumb;
For with the flow'ry earth
The golden pomp is come.

A Paranaeticall, Or Advisive Verseto His Friend, Mr John Wicks

Is this a life, to break thy sleep,
To rise as soon as day doth peep?
To tire thy patient ox or ass
By noon, and let thy good days pass,