Poems begining by T
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To Carnations: A Song
© Robert Herrick
Stay while ye will, or go,
And leave no scent behind ye:
Yet trust me, I shall know
The place where I may find ye.
The Maypole
© Robert Herrick
The May-pole is up,
Now give me the cup;
I'll drink to the garlands around it;
But first unto those
Whose hands did compose
The glory of flowers that crown'd it.
The Captive Bee; Or, The Little Filcher
© Robert Herrick
As Julia once a-slumb'ring lay,
It chanced a bee did fly that way,
After a dew, or dew-like shower,
To tipple freely in a flower;
To Silvia To Wed
© Robert Herrick
Let us, though late, at last, my Silvia, wed;
And loving lie in one devoted bed.
Thy watch may stand, my minutes fly post haste;
No sound calls back the year that once is past.
The Rock Of Rubies, And The Quarry Ofpearls
© Robert Herrick
Some ask'd me where the Rubies grew:
And nothing I did say,
But with my finger pointed to
The lips of Julia.
To His Dying Brother, Master William Herrick
© Robert Herrick
Life of my life, take not so soon thy flight,
But stay the time till we have bade good-night.
Thou hast both wind and tide with thee; thy way
As soon dispatch'd is by the night as day.
The Rosary
© Robert Herrick
One asked me where the roses grew:
I bade him not go seek,
But forwith bade my Julia show
A bud in either cheek.
The Transfiguration
© Robert Herrick
Immortal clothing I put on
So soon as, Julia, I am gone
To mine eternal mansion.
Tears And Laughter
© Robert Herrick
Knew'st thou one month would take thy life away,
Thou'dst weep; but laugh, should it not last a day.
To Pansies
© Robert Herrick
Ah, Cruel Love! must I endure
Thy many scorns, and find no cure?
Say, are thy medicines made to be
Helps to all others but to me?
To Music, To Becalm A Sweet Sick Youth
© Robert Herrick
Charms, that call down the moon from out her sphere,
On this sick youth work your enchantments here!
Bind up his senses with your numbers, so
As to entrance his pain, or cure his woe.
To His Honoured and Most Ingenious Friend Mr. Charles Cotton
© Robert Herrick
For brave comportment, wit without offence,
Words fully flowing, yet of influence:
Thou art that man of men, the man alone,
Worthy the public admiration:
The Parcae; Or, Three Dainty Destinies:the Armilet
© Robert Herrick
Three lovely sisters working were,
As they were closely set,
Of soft and dainty maiden-hair,
A curious Armilet.
The Bad Season Makes The Poet Sad
© Robert Herrick
Dull to myself, and almost dead to these,
My many fresh and fragrant mistresses;
Lost to all music now, since every thing
Puts on the semblance here of sorrowing.
To Be Merry
© Robert Herrick
Let's now take our time,
While we're in our prime,
And old, old age is afar off;
For the evil, evil days
Will come on apace,
Before we can be aware of.
To Primroses Filled With Morning Dew
© Robert Herrick
Why do ye weep, sweet babes? can tears
Speak grief in you,
Who were but born
just as the modest morn
To Death
© Robert Herrick
Thou bidst me come away,
And I'll no longer stay,
Than for to shed some tears
For faults of former years;
The Widows' Tears; Or, Dirge Of Dorcas
© Robert Herrick
Come pity us, all ye who see
Our harps hung on the willow-tree;
Come pity us, ye passers-by,
Who see or hear poor widows' cry;
To the Western Wind
© Robert Herrick
SWEET western wind, whose luck it is,
Made rival with the air,
To give Perenna's lip a kiss,
And fan her wanton hair:
The Heart
© Robert Herrick
In prayer the lips ne'er act the winning part
Without the sweet concurrence of the heart.
