Robert Herrick

Robert Herrick

1,000 карма
United Kingdom (Great Britain)

Of Love A Sonnet

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How Love came in,
I do not know,
Whether by th'eye, or ear, or no;
Or whether with the soul it came,
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To Live Merrily And To Trust To Good Verses

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Now is the time for mirth,    Nor cheek or tongue be dumb;
For with the flow'ry earth    The golden pomp is come
The golden pomp is come;    For now each tree does wear,
Made of her pap and gum,    Rich beads of amber here
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Up Scoble

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Scobble for whoredom whips his wife and
He'll slit her nose; but blubbering she replies,"Good sir, make no more cuts i' th' outward skin,
One slit's enough to let adultery in
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The Definition Of Beauty

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Beauty no other thing is, than a
Flash'd out between the middle and extreme
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What Kind Of Mistress He Would Have

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Be the mistress of my choice,
Clean in manners, clear in voice;
Be she witty, more than wise,
Pure enough, though not precise;
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His Prayer To Ben Jonson

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When I a verse shall make,
Know I have pray'd thee,
For old religion's sake,
Saint Ben to aid me
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The Bad Season Makes The Poet Sad

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Dull to myself, and almost dead to
My many fresh and fragrant mistresses;
Lost to all music now, since
Puts on the semblance here of sorrowing
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