Robert Herrick

(1591-1674 / London / England)

Robert Herrick Poems

81. His Wish To Privacy 12/31/2002
82. How His Soul Came Ensnared 12/31/2002
83. How Pansies Or Hearts-Ease Came First 12/31/2002
84. How Springs Came First 12/31/2002
85. I Call And I Call 12/31/2002
86. Impossibilities: To His Friend 12/31/2002
87. Kissing Usury 12/31/2002
88. Life Is The Body's Light 12/31/2002
89. Litany To The Holy Spirit 1/4/2003
90. Loss From The Least 12/31/2002
91. Love Dislikes Nothing 12/31/2002
92. Love Lightly Pleased 12/31/2002
93. Love, What It Is 12/31/2002
94. Lovers How They Come And Part 12/31/2002
95. Man's Dying-Place Uncertain 12/31/2002
96. Matins, Or Morning Prayer 12/31/2002
97. Men Mind No State In Sickness 12/31/2002
98. Mirth 12/31/2002
99. Miseries 1/3/2003
100. Money Makes The Mirth 12/31/2002
101. Mrs Eliz: Wheeler, Under The Name Of Thelost Shepherdess 12/31/2002
102. No Fault In Women 12/31/2002
103. No Man Without Money 12/31/2002
104. No Pains, No Gains 12/31/2002
105. Not Every Day Fit For Verse 12/31/2002
106. Nothing Free-Cost 12/31/2002
107. Oberon's Feast 1/3/2003
108. Of Love: A Sonnet 12/31/2002
109. On A Perfumed Lady 12/31/2002
110. On Himself 12/31/2002
111. On Julia's Voice 1/3/2003
112. On Love 12/31/2002
113. Orpheus 12/31/2002
114. Pardons 12/31/2002
115. Peace Not Permanent 12/31/2002
116. Poverty And Riches 12/31/2002
117. Pray And Prosper 12/31/2002
118. Proof To No Purpose 1/3/2003
119. Purposes 12/31/2002
120. Rewards 1/3/2003
Best Poem of Robert Herrick

To The Virgins, Make Much Of Time

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.

The glorious lamp of heaven, the Sun,
The higher he's a-getting,
The sooner will his race be run,
And nearer he's 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 ye may, go marry;
For having lost but once your prime,
You may for ever tarry.

Read the full of To The Virgins, Make Much Of Time

Upon Julia's Recovery

Droop, droop no more, or hang the head,
Ye roses almost withered;
Now strength, and newer purple get,
Each here declining violet.
O primroses! let this day be
A resurrection unto ye;
And to all flowers allied in blood,
Or sworn to that sweet sisterhood.
For health on Julia's cheek hath shed

[Report Error]