Robert Herrick: Всі вірші поета | Poetree

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Up Scoble

Up Scoble

Scobble for whoredom whips his wife and cries

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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by Robert Herrick

All Things Decay And Die

All Things Decay And Die

All things decay with time: The forest sees

The growth and down-fall of her aged trees;

That timber tall, which three-score lustres stood

The proud dictator of the state-like wood,

I mean the sovereign of all plants, the oak,

Droops, dies, and falls without the cleaver's stroke.

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by Robert Herrick

His Prayer To Ben Jonson

His Prayer To Ben Jonson

When I a verse shall make,

Know I have pray'd thee,

For old religion's sake,

Saint Ben to aid me.

Make the way smooth for me,

When I, thy Herrick,

Honouring thee, on my knee

Offer my lyric.

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by Robert Herrick

Meditation For His Mistress

Meditation For His Mistress

You are a Tulip seen to-day,

But, Dearest, of so short a stay,

That where you grew, scarce man can say.

You are a lovely July-flower;

Yet one rude wind, or ruffling shower,

Will force you hence, and in an hour.

You are a sparkling Rose i'th' bud,

Yet lost, ere that chaste flesh and blood

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by Robert Herrick

A Conjuration To Electra

A Conjuration To Electra

By those soft tods of wool

With which the air is full;

By all those tinctures there,

That paint the hemisphere;

By dews and drizzling rain

That swell the golden grain;

By all those sweets that be

I' the flowery nunnery;

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by Robert Herrick

His Poetry His Pillar

His Poetry His Pillar

Only a little more

I have to write:

Then I'll give o'er,

And bid the world good-night.

'Tis but a flying minute,

That I must stay,

Or linger in it:

And then I must away.

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by Robert Herrick

To Live Merrily, And To Trust To Good Verses

To Live Merrily, And To Trust To Good Verses

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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by Robert Herrick

A Child's Grace

A Child's Grace

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.

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by Robert Herrick

Hymn To Love

Hymn To Love

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,

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by Robert Herrick

To Anthea, Who May Command Him Anything

To Anthea, Who May Command Him Anything

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.

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by Robert Herrick

An Ode For Ben Jonson

An Ode For Ben Jonson

Ah Ben!

Say how, or when

Shall we thy guests

Meet at those lyric feasts

Made at the Sun,

The Dog, the Triple Tun?

Where we such clusters had

As made us nobly wild, not mad;

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by Robert Herrick

His Return To London

His Return To London

From the dull confines of the drooping west

To see the day spring from the pregnant east,

Ravish'd in spirit, I come, nay more, I fly

To thee, blest place of my nativity!

Thus, thus with hallow'd foot I touch the ground,

With thousand blessings by thy fortune crown'd.

O fruitful genius! that bestowest here

An everlasting plenty, year by year.

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by Robert Herrick