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To The Virgins, To Make Much Of Time Gather Ye Rose-buds While Ye May, Old Time Is Still A-flying; And This Same Flower That Smiles Today, Tomorrow Will Be Dying. The Glorious Lamp Of Heaven, The Sun, The Higher He’s A-getting, The Sooner Will His Race Be Run, And Nearer He Is To Setting. That Age Is Best Which Is The First, When Youth And Blood Are Warmer; But Being Spent, The Worse, And Worst Times Still Succeed The Former. Then Be Not Coy, But Use Your Time, And While You May, Go Marry; For Having Lost But Once Your Prime, You May For Ever Tarry.

-Robert Herrick

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To The Virgins, To

Robert Herrick

...

To The Virgins, To Make Much Of Time Gather Ye Rose-buds While Ye May, Old Time Is Still A-flying; And This Same Flower That Smiles Today, Tomorrow Will Be Dying. The Glorious Lamp Of Heaven, The Sun, The Higher He’s A-getting, The Sooner Will His Race Be Run, And Nearer He Is To Setting. That Age Is Best Which Is The First, When Youth And Blood Are Warmer; But Being Spent, The Worse, And Worst Times Still Succeed The Former. Then Be Not Coy, But Use Your Time, And While You May, Go Marry; For Having Lost But Once Your Prime, You May For Ever Tarry.

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I Dare Not Ask A Kiss; I Dare Not Beg A Smile; Lest Having That Or This, I Might Grow Proud The While. No, No, The Utmost Share Of My Desire Shall Be Only To Kiss That Air, That Lately Kissed Thee.

What Though The Sea Be Calm? Trust To The Shore, Ships Have Been Drown'd, Where Late They Danc'd Before.

Love Is A Circle That Doth Restless Move In The Same Sweet Eternity Of Love.

Who After His Transgression Doth Repent, Is Halfe, Or Altogether, Innocent.

Here A Little Child I Stand, Heaving Up My Either Hand; Cold As Paddocks Though They Be, Here I Lift Them Up To Thee, For A Benison To Fall On Our Meat, And On Us All. Amen.

A Sweet Disorder In The Dress Kindles In Clothes A Wantonness : A Lawn About The Shoulders Thrown Into A Fine Distraction : An Erring Lace Which Here And There Enthrals The Crimson Stomacher : A Cuff Neglectful, And Thereby Ribbons To Flow Confusedly : A Winning Wave (deserving Note) In The Tempestuous Petticoat : A Careless Shoe-string, In Whose Tie I See A Wild Civility : Do More Bewitch Me Than When Art Is Too Precise In Every Part.

Love Is Maintain'd By Wealth: When All Is Spent, Adversity Then Breeds The Discontent.

He Loves His Bonds Who, When The First Are Broke, Submits His Neck Into A Second Yoke.

Give, If Thou Can, An Alms; If Not, A Sweet And Gentle Word.

A Winning Wave, (deserving Note.) In The Tempestuous Petticote, A Careless Shoe-string, In Whose Tye I See A Wilde Civility,-- Doe More Bewitch Me Than When Art Is Too Precise In Every Part.

Tears Are The Noble Language Of Eyes, And When True Love Of Words Is Destitute. The Eye By Tears Speak, While The Tongue Is Mute.

Who Covets More Is Evermore A Slave.

Tis Not The Food, But The Content, That Makes The Table's Merriment.

Necessity Makes Dastards Valiant Men.

A Spark Neglected Makes A Mighty Fire.

Things Are Evermore Sincere; / Candor Here, And Lustre There / Delighting.

Conquer We Shall, But, We Must First Contend! It's Not The Fight That Crowns Us, But The End.

In The Hour Of My Distress, When Temptations Me Oppress, And When I My Sins Confess, Sweet Spirit, Comfort Me.

If Little Labour, Little Are Our Gains: Man's Fortunes Are According To His Pains.

Some Asked Me Where The Rubies Grew, And Nothing I Did Say; But With My Finger Pointed To The Lips Of Julia.

But Here's The Sunset Of A Tedious Day, These Two Asleep Are; I'll But Be Undrest, And So To Bed. Pray Wish Us All Good Rest.

Our Present Tears Here, Not Our Present Laughter Are But The Handsells Of Our Joys Hereafter.

In Vain Our Labours Are, Whatsoe'er They Be, Unless God Gives The Benediction.

I Do Love I Know Not What; Sometimes This, And Sometimes That.

A Little Saint Best Fits A Little Shrine, A Little Prop Best Fits A Little Vine, As My Small Cruse Best Fits My Little Wine.

A Sweet Disorder In The Dress Kindles In Clothes A Wantonness A Lawn About The Shoulders Thrown Into A Fine Distraction.

Learn This Of Me, Where'er Thy Lot Doth Fall, Short Lot, Or Not, To Be Content With All.

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.

Against Diseases Here The Strongest Fence Is The Defensive Vertue, Abstinence.

Let My Muse Fail Of Thy Former Helps, And Only Use Her Inadulterate Strength. What's Done By Me Hereafter Shall Smell Of The Lamp, Not Thee.

Let's Live With That Small Pittance Which We Have; Who Covets More Is Evermore A Slave.

The First Act's Doubtful, But We Say, It Is The Last Commends The Play.

Cherry-ripe, Ripe, Ripe, I Cry, Full And Fair Ones; Come And Buy. If So Be You Ask Me Where They Do Grow, I Answer: There, Where My Julia's Lips Do Smile; There's The Land, Or Cherry-isle, Whose Plantations Fully Show All The Year Where Cherries Grow.

When The Artless Doctor Sees No One Hope, But Of His Fees, And His Skill Runs On The Lees; Sweet Spirit, Comfort Me! When His Potion And His Pill, Has, Or None, Or Little Skill, Meet For Nothing, But To Kill; Sweet Spirit, Comfort Me!

Happy Is The Bride That The Sun Shines On.

Whatever Comes, Let's Be Content Withal: Among God's Blessings There Is No One Small.

Fair Daffodils, We Weep To See You Haste Away So Soon: As Yet The Early-rising Sun Has Not Attained His Noon.

Welcome, Maids Of Honor, You Doe Bring In The Spring, And Wait Upon Her.

Temptations Hurt Not, Though They Have Accesse; Satan O'ercomes None But By Willingnesse.

Bid Me To Live, And I Will Live Thy Protestant To Be: Or Bid Me Love, And I Will Give A Loving Heart To Thee, A Heart As Soft, A Heart As Kind, A Heart As Sound And Free As In The Whole World Thou Canst Find, That Heart I'll Give To Thee.

Fight Thou With Shafts Of Silver, And O'ercome When No Force Else Can Get The Masterdom

Lord, 'tis Thy Plenty-dropping Hand That Soils My Land, And Giv'st Me For My Bushel Sowne Twice Ten For One. All This, And Better, Thou Dost Send Me, To This End, That I Should Render, For My Part, A Thankful Heart.

Tis Hard To Find God, But To Comprehend Him, As He Is, Is Labour Without End.

The Person Lives Twice Who Lives The First Life Well

In Sober Mornings Do Not Thou Rehearse The Holy Incantation Of A Verse

I'll Write, Because I'll Give - You Critics Means To Live; For Should I Not Supply - The Cause, The Effect Would Die

For Pitty, Sir, Find Out That Bee Which Bore My Love Away I'le Seek Him In Your Bonnet Brave, I'le Seek Him In Your Eyes.

Art Quickens Nature; Care Will Make A Face; Neglected Beauty Perisheth Apace.

The Glorious Lamp Of Heaven, The Sun.

Rise And Put On Your Foliage, And Be Seen To Come Forth, Like The Springtime, Fresh And Green

Like Will To Like, Each Creature Loves His Kind.

Seldom Comes Glory Till A Man Be Dead.

Buying, Possessing, Accumulating--this Is Not Worldliness. But Doing This In The Love Of It, With No Love Of God Paramount--doing It So That Thoughts Of Eternity And God Are An Intrusion--doing It So That One's Spirit Is Secularized In The Process; This Is Worldliness.

The Body Is The Soul's Poor House Or Home, Whose Ribs The Laths Are And Whose Flesh The Loam.

Bid Me To Live, And I Will Livethy Protestant To Be,or Bid Me Love, And I Will Givea Loving Heart To Thee.

Her Eyes The Glowworm Lend Thee, The Shooting Stars Attend Thee; And The Elves Also, Whose Little Eyes Glow Like The Sparks Of Fire, Befriend Thee.

That Age Is Best Which Is The First When Youth And Blood Are Warmer.

Fain Would I Kiss My Julia's Dainty Leg, Which Is As White And Hairless As An Egg.

Then Be Not Coy, But Use Your Time; And While Ye May, Go Marry: For Having Lost But Once Your Prime, You May For Ever Tarry.

We Credit Most Our Sight; One Eye Doth Please Our Trust Farre More Than Ten Eare-witnesses.

Who With A Little Cannot Be Content, Endures An Everlasting Punishment.

Give House-room To The Best; 'tis Never Known Verture And Pleasure Both To Dwell In One.

Praise They That Will Times Past, I Joy To See My Selfe Now Live: This Age Best Pleaseth Mee.

But Ne'er The Rose Without The Thorn.

Well I Sup And Well I Dine, When I Drink My Frolic Wine.

Hell Is No Other But A Soundlesse Pit, Where No One Beame Of Comfort Peeps In It.

It Is An Active Flame That Fliesfirst To The Babies In The Eyes.

My Soul I'll Pour Into Thee.

Those Saints, Which God Loves Best, The Devil Tempts Not Least.

So When Or You Or I Are Made A Fable, Song, Or Fleeting Shade; All Love, All Liking, All Delight Lies Drowned With Us In Endless Night. Then While Time Serves, And We Are But Decaying; Come, My Corinna, Come, Let's Go A Maying.

Hast Thou Attempted Greatnesse? Then Go On; Back-turning Slackens Resolution.

Bid Me To Love, And I Will Give A Loving Heart To Thee.

Never Give Up On Love

Men Are Suspicious; Prone To Discontent: Subjects Still Loathe The Present Government.

Bid Me Despair, And I'll Despair,under That Cypress Tree;or Bid Me Die, And I Will Daree'en Death, To Die For Thee.

In Prayer The Lips Ne'er Act The Winning Part, Without The Sweet Concurrence Of The Heart.

T Is The Will That Makes The Action Good Or Ill.

In Ways To Greatness Think On This, That Slippery All Ambition Is

None Pities Him That Is In The Snare, Who Warned Before, Would Not Beware.

Twixt Kings And Tyrants There's This Difference Known; Kings Seek Their Subjects' Good: Tyrants Their Own.

Thou Art My Life, My Love, My Heart, The Very Eyes Of Me: And Hast Command Of Every Part To Live And Die For Thee.

A Careless Shoe String, In Whose Tie I See A Wilde Civility.

The Readiness Of Doing Doth Expresse No Other But The Doer's Willingnesse.

You Say To Me-wards Your Affection's Strong; Pray Love Me Little, So You Love Me Long.

Attempt The End And Never Stand To Doubt; Nothing's So Hard, But Search Will Find It Out.

God Doth Not Promise Here To Man That Hewill Free Him Quickly From His Misery;but In His Own Time, And When He Thinks Fit,then He Will Give A Happy End To It.

Drink Wine, And Live Here Blitheful While Ye May; The Morrow's Life Too Late Is; Live To-day.

Thus Times Do Shift, Each Thing His Turn Does Hold; New Things Succeed, As Former Things Grow Old.

Give Me A Kiss, And To That Kiss A Score: Then To That Twenty, Add A Hundred More.

And As This Round (ring) Is Nowhere Found To Flaw, Or Else To Sever. So Let Our Love As Endless Prove And Pure As Gold Forever.

What Is A Kiss? Why This, As Some Approve: The Sure, Sweet Cement, Glue, And Lime Of Love.

To The Virgins, To Make Much Of Time Gather Ye Rose-buds While Ye May, Old Time Is Still A-flying; And This Same Flower That Smiles Today, Tomorrow Will Be Dying. The Glorious Lamp Of Heaven, The Sun, The Higher He’s A-getting, The Sooner Will His Race Be Run, And Nearer He Is To Setting. That Age Is Best Which Is The First, When Youth And Blood Are Warmer; But Being Spent, The Worse, And Worst Times Still Succeed The Former. Then Be Not Coy, But Use Your Time, And While You May, Go Marry; For Having Lost But Once Your Prime, You May For Ever Tarry.

Tears Are The Noble Language Of The Eye.

It Is The End That Crowns Us, Not The Fight.

No, Not Jove Himselfe, At One Time, Can Be Wise And Love.

Gather Ye Rosebuds, While Ye May.

Wealth Cannot Make A Life, But Love.

When One Is Past, Another Care We Have; Thus Woe Succeeds A Woe, As Wave A Wave.

Roses At First Were White, Till Thy Co'd Not Agree, Whether My Sapho's Breast, Or They More White Sho'd Be.

In Things A Moderation Keep; Kings Ought To Shear, Not Skin, Their Sheep.

Give Me A Kiss, And To That Kiss A Score; Then To That Twenty, Add A Hundred More: A Thousand To That Hundred: So Kiss On, To Make That Thousand Up A Million. Treble That Million, And When That Is Done, Let's Kiss Afresh, As When We First Begun.

He Who Has Suffered Shipwreck, Fears To Sail Upon The Seas, Though With A Gentle Gale.

Show Me Thy Feet, Show Me Thy Legs, Thy Thighs Show Me Those Fleshy Principalities; Show Me That Hill Where Smiling Love Doth Sit, Having A Living Fountain Under It; Show Me Thy Waist, Then Let Me There Withal, By The Ascension Of Thy Lawn, See All.

Here A Pretty Baby Lies Sung Asleep With Lullabies: Pray Be Silent, And Not Stirre The Easie Earth That Covers Her.

I Sing Of Brooks, Of Blossoms, Birds, And Bowers: Of April, May, Or June, And July Flowers. I Sing Of Maypoles, Hock-carts, Wassails, Wakes, Of Bridegrooms, Brides, And Of The Bridal Cakes.

Humble We Must Be, If To Heaven We Go; High Is The Roof There, But The Gate Is Low.

Next, When I Cast Mine Eyes And See That Brave Vibration Each Way Free, O How That Glittering Taketh Me!

Rise And Put On Your Foliage, And Be Seen To Come Forth, Like The Spring-time, Fresh And Green, And Sweet As Flora. Take No Care For Jewels For Your Gown Or Hair Fear Not; The Leaves Will Strew Gems In Abundance Upon You Besides, The Childhood Of The Day Has Kept, Against You Come, Some Orient Pearls Unwept. Come, And Receive Them While The Light Hangs On The Dew-locks Of The Night And Titan On The Eastern Hill Retires Himself, Or Else Stands Still Till You Come Forth! Wash, Dress, Be Brief In Praying Few Beads Are Best When Once We Go A-maying.

When Words We Want, Love Teacheth To Indite; And What We Blush To Speak, She Bids Us Write.

Know When To Speak - For Many Times It Brings Danger, To Give The Best Advice To Kings.

When The Tempter Me Pursueth With The Sins Of All My Youth, And Half Damns Me With Untruth, Sweet Spirit, Comfort Me!

Let Wealth Come In By Comely Thrift, And Not By Any Sordid Shift; 't Is Haste Makes Waste; Extremes Have Still Their Fault. Who Gripes Too Hard The Dry And Slipp'ry Sand, Holds None At All, Or Little, In His Hand.

Haste Makes Waste

It Takes Great Wit And Interest And Energy To Be Happy. The Pursuit Of Happiness Is A Great Activity. One Must Be Open And Alive. It Is The Greatest Feat Man Has To Accomplish.

Pursuit Of Happiness

Outdid The Meat, Outdid The Frolic Wine.

Go To Your Banquet Then, But Use Delight So As To Rise Still With An Appetite.

Gather Ye Rose-buds While Ye May, Old Time Is Still A Flying: And This Same Flower That Smiles To Day, Tomorrow Will Be Dying.

Feed Him Ye Must, Whose Food Fills You. And That This Pleasure Is Like Raine, Not Sent Ye For To Drowne Your Paine, But For To Make It Spring Againe.

Each Must In Virtue Strive For To Excel; That Man Lives Twice That Lives The First Life Well.

When A Daffadill I See, Hanging Down His Head Towards Me, Guess I May, What I Must Be: First, I Shall Decline My Head; Secondly, I Shall Be Dead: Lastly, Safely Buryed.

Before Man's Fall The Rose Was Born,st. Ambrose Says, Without The Thorn;but For Man's Fault Then Was The Thornwithout The Fragrant Rose-bud Born; But Ne'er The Rose Without The Thorn.

Oft Have I Heard Both Youths And Virgins Say, Birds Chuse Their Mates And Couple Too This Day: But By Their Flight I Never Can Devine When I Shall Couple With My Valentine.

O Thou, The Drink Of Gods And Angels! Wine

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