Robert Herrick

(1591-1674 / London / England)

A Hymn To Love - Poem by Robert Herrick

I will confess
With cheerfulness,
Love is a thing so likes me,
That, let her lay
On me all day,
I'll kiss the hand that strikes me.

I will not, I,
Now blubb'ring cry,
It, ah! too late repents me
That I did fall
To love at all--
Since love so much contents me.

No, no, I'll be
In fetters free;
While others they sit wringing
Their hands for pain,
I'll entertain
The wounds of love with singing.

With flowers and wine,
And cakes divine,
To strike me I will tempt thee;
Which done, no more
I'll come before
Thee and thine altars empty.

Comments about A Hymn To Love by Robert Herrick

  • Rookie Kumolu Damilola (3/12/2009 3:28:00 PM)

    fantastic, i love this poem.can you add me so that we chart pls? (Report) Reply

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Read poems about / on: kiss, pain, love, flower

Poem Submitted: Tuesday, December 31, 2002

Poem Edited: Sunday, July 31, 2011

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