Poems begining by T
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To Music, To Becalm His Fever
© Robert Herrick
Charm me asleep, and melt me so
With thy delicious numbers;
That being ravish'd, hence I go
Away in easy slumbers.
To Enjoy The Time
© Robert Herrick
While fates permit us, let's be merry;
Pass all we must the fatal ferry;
And this our life, too, whirls away,
With the rotation of the day.
The Present; Or, The Bag Of The Bee:
© Robert Herrick
Fly to my mistress, pretty pilfering bee,
And say thou bring'st this honey-bag from me;
When on her lip thou hast thy sweet dew placed,
Mark if her tongue but slyly steal a taste;
If so, we live; if not, with mournful hum,
Toll forth my death; next, to my burial come.
The Invitation
© Robert Herrick
To sup with thee thou didst me home invite,
And mad'st a promise that mine appetite
Should meet and tire, on such lautitious meat,
The like not Heliogabalus did eat:
The Wake
© Robert Herrick
Come, Anthea, let us two
Go to feast, as others do:
Tarts and custards, creams and cakes,
Are the junkets still at wakes;
The Bracelet To Julia
© Robert Herrick
Why I tie about thy wrist,
Julia, this my silken twist?
For what other reason is't,
But to shew thee how in part
To Dianeme
© Robert Herrick
I could but see thee yesterday
Stung by a fretful bee;
And I the javelin suck'd away,
And heal'd the wound in thee.
The Primrose
© Robert Herrick
Ask me why I send you here
This sweet Infanta of the year?
Ask me why I send to you
This Primrose, thus bepearl'd with dew?
I will whisper to your ears,--
The sweets of love are mixt with tears.
To His Verses
© Robert Herrick
What will ye, my poor orphans, do,
When I must leave the world and you;
Who'll give ye then a sheltering shed,
Or credit ye, when I am dead?
The Dirge Of Jephthah's Daughter:sung By The Virgins
© Robert Herrick
O thou, the wonder of all days!
O paragon, and pearl of praise!
O Virgin-martyr, ever blest
Above the rest
Of all the maiden-train! We come,
And bring fresh strewings to thy tomb.
To His Saviour, A Child;a Present, By A Child
© Robert Herrick
Go, pretty child, and bear this flower
Unto thy little Saviour;
And tell him, by that bud now blown,
He is the Rose of Sharon known.
The Olive Branch
© Robert Herrick
Sadly I walk'd within the field,
To see what comfort it would yield;
And as I went my private way,
An olive-branch before me lay;
The Lily In A Crystal
© Robert Herrick
You have beheld a smiling rose
When virgins' hands have drawn
O'er it a cobweb-lawn:
And here, you see, this lily shows,
To Anthea
© Robert Herrick
Anthea, I am going hence
With some small stock of innocence;
But yet those blessed gates I see
Withstanding entrance unto me;
To pray for me do thou begin;--
The porter then will let me in.
The Cheat Of Cupid; Or, The Ungentle Guest
© Robert Herrick
One silent night of late,
When every creature rested,
Came one unto my gate,
And knocking, me molested.
The Bellman
© Robert Herrick
From noise of scare-fires rest ye free,
From murders Benedicite.
From all mischances that may fright
Your pleasing slumbers in the night :
To Meadows
© Robert Herrick
Ye have been fresh and green,
Ye have been fill'd with flowers;
And ye the walks have been
Where maids have spent their hours.
To The Water-nymphs Drinking At Thefountain
© Robert Herrick
Reach with your whiter hands to me
Some crystal of the spring;
And I about the cup shall see
Fresh lilies flourishing.
The Mad Maid's Song
© Robert Herrick
Good morrow to the day so fair;
Good morning, sir, to you;
Good morrow to mine own torn hair,
Bedabbled with the dew.
