Robert Herrick

(1591-1674 / London / England)

A Hymn To The Graces - Poem by Robert Herrick

When I love, as some have told
Love I shall, when I am old,
O ye Graces! make me fit
For the welcoming of it!
Clean my rooms, as temples be,
To entertain that deity;
Give me words wherewith to woo,
Suppling and successful too;
Winning postures; and withal,
Manners each way musical;
Sweetness to allay my sour
And unsmooth behaviour:
For I know you have the skill
Vines to prune, though not to kill;
And of any wood ye see,
You can make a Mercury.


Comments about A Hymn To The Graces by Robert Herrick

  • Rookie - 59 Points Brian Jani (5/29/2014 1:30:00 PM)

    Well penned poem (Report) Reply

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Read poems about / on: love



Poem Submitted: Tuesday, December 31, 2002



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