Poems begining by T
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The Good-night or Blessing
© Robert Herrick
Blessings in abundance come
To the bride and to her groom ;
May the bed and this short night
Know the fulness of delight !
To The Maids, To Walk Abroad
© Robert Herrick
Come, sit we under yonder tree,
Where merry as the maids we'll be;
And as on primroses we sit,
We'll venture, if we can, at wit;
The Wounded Cupid
© Robert Herrick
Cupid as he lay among
Roses, by a Bee was stung.
Whereupon in anger flying
To his Mother, said thus crying;
The Apron Of Flowers
© Robert Herrick
To gather flowers, Sappha went,
And homeward she did bring
Within her lawny continent,
The treasure of the Spring.
To The Willow-tree
© Robert Herrick
Thou art to all lost love the best,
The only true plant found,
Wherewith young men and maids distrest
And left of love, are crown'd.
The Fairies
© Robert Herrick
If ye will with Mab find grace,
Set each platter in his place;
Rake the fire up, and get
Water in, ere sun be set.
To The Rose: Song
© Robert Herrick
Go, happy Rose, and interwove
With other flowers, bind my Love.
Tell her, too, she must not be
Longer flowing, longer free,
That so oft has fetter'd me.
The Changes: To Corinna
© Robert Herrick
Be not proud, but now incline
Your soft ear to discipline;
You have changes in your life,
Sometimes peace, and sometimes strife;
To Blossoms
© Robert Herrick
Fair pledges of a fruitful tree,
Why do ye fall so fast?
Your date is not so past,
But you may stay yet here a-while,
To blush and gently smile;
And go at last.
The Shower Of Blossoms
© Robert Herrick
Love in a shower of blossoms came
Down, and half drown'd me with the same;
The blooms that fell were white and red;
But with such sweets commingled,
The Succession Of The Four Sweet Months
© Robert Herrick
First, April, she with mellow showers
Opens the way for early flowers;
Then after her comes smiling May,
In a more rich and sweet array;
To The Handsome Mistress Grace Potter
© Robert Herrick
As is your name, so is your comely face
Touch'd every where with such diffused grace,
As that in all that admirable round,
There is not one least solecism found;
And as that part, so every portion else
Keeps line for line with beauty's parallels.
To Music: A Song
© Robert Herrick
Music, thou queen of heaven, care-charming spell,
That strik'st a stillness into hell;
Thou that tam'st tigers, and fierce storms, that rise,
With thy soul-melting lullabies;
Fall down, down, down, from those thy chiming spheres
To charm our souls, as thou enchant'st our ears.
To Electra
© Robert Herrick
I dare not ask a kiss,
I dare not beg a smile;
Lest having that, or this,
I might grow proud the while.
The Vine
© Robert Herrick
I dreamed this mortal part of mine
Was metamorphosed to a vine,
Which, crawling one and every way,
Enthralled my dainty Lucia.
To Robin Red-breast
© Robert Herrick
Laid out for dead, let thy last kindness be
With leaves and moss-work for to cover me;
And while the wood-nymphs my cold corpse inter,
Sing thou my dirge, sweet-warbling chorister!
For epitaph, in foliage, next write this:
HERE, HERE THE TOMB OF ROBIN HERRICK IS!
Truth And Error
© Robert Herrick
Twixt truth and error, there's this difference known
Error is fruitful, truth is only one.
To Heaven
© Robert Herrick
Open thy gates
To him who weeping waits,
And might come in,
But that held back by sin.
The White Island:or Place Of The Blest
© Robert Herrick
In this world, the Isle of Dreams,
While we sit by sorrow's streams,
Tears and terrors are our themes,
Reciting:
To Youth
© Robert Herrick
Drink wine, and live here blitheful while ye may;
The morrow's life too late is; Live to-day.
