Time poems
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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.
His Return To London
© Robert Herrick
From the dull confines of the drooping west,
To see the day spring from the pregnant east,
Ravish'd in spirit, I come, nay more, I fly
To thee, blest place of my nativity!
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;
A Panegyric To Sir Lewis Pemberton
© Robert Herrick
Till I shall come again, let this suffice,
I send my salt, my sacrifice
To thee, thy lady, younglings, and as far
As to thy Genius and thy Lar;
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 !
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;
A Christmas Carol, Sung to the King in the Presence at White-Hall
© Robert Herrick
Voice 1:
Dark and dull night, fly hence away,
And give the honor to this Day,
That sees December turn'd to May.
His Poetry His Pillar
© Robert Herrick
Only a little more
I have to write:
Then I'll give o'er,
And bid the world good-night.
The Country Life:
© Robert Herrick
TO THE HONOURED MR ENDYMION PORTER, GROOM OF
THE BED-CHAMBER TO HIS MAJESTYSweet country life, to such unknown,
Whose lives are others', not their own!
But serving courts and cities, be
To A Gentlewoman, Objecting To Him Hisgray Hairs
© Robert Herrick
Am I despised, because you say;
And I dare swear, that I am gray?
Know, Lady, you have but your day!
And time will come when you shall wear
All Things Decay And Die
© Robert Herrick
All things decay with time: The forest sees
The growth and down-fall of her aged trees;
That timber tall, which three-score lustres stood
The proud dictator of the state-like wood,
I mean the sovereign of all plants, the oak,
Droops, dies, and falls without the cleaver's stroke.
To His Mistress Objecting To Him Neither Toying Nor Talking
© Robert Herrick
You say I love not, 'cause I do not play
Still with your curls, and kiss the time away.
You blame me, too, because I can't devise
Some sport to please those babies in your eyes;
A Conjuration To Electra
© Robert Herrick
By those soft tods of wool
With which the air is full;
By all those tinctures there,
That paint the hemisphere;
To Daffadils
© Robert Herrick
Fair Daffadils, we weep to see
You haste away so soon;
As yet the early-rising sun
Has not attain'd his noon.
Corinna's Going A-Maying
© Robert Herrick
Get up, get up for shame! the blooming morn
Upon her wings presents the god unshorn.
See how Aurora throws her fair
Fresh-quilted colours through the air!
The Argument Of His Book
© Robert Herrick
I sing of brooks, of blossoms, birds, and bowers,
Of April, May, of June, and July-flowers.
I sing of May-poles, hock-carts, wassails, wakes,
Of bridegrooms, brides, and of their bridal-cakes.
To Virgins, to Make Much of Time
© Robert Herrick
Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,
Old time is still a-flying
And this same flower that smiles today
Tomorrow will be dying.
To The Virgins, To Make Much Of Time
© Robert Herrick
Gather ye rose-buds while ye may:
Old Time is still a-flying;
And this same flower that smiles to-day,
To-morrow will be dying.
