Robert Herrick (poet)

Robert Herrick (baptized August 24 1591 - October 1674) was a 17th century English poet. Born in Cheapside, London, he was the seventh child and fourth son of Nicholas Herrick, a prosperous goldsmith, who committed suicide when Robert was a year old.
 * See also:
 * Hesperides

Hesperides
Of April, May, of June, and July flowers. I sing of Maypoles, Hock-carts, wassails, wakes, Of bridegrooms, brides, and of their bridal cakes. I write of youth, of love, and have access By these to sing of cleanly wantonness; I sing of dews, of rains, and piece by piece Of balm, of oil, of spice and ambergris; I sing of times trans-shifting, and I write How roses first came red and lilies white; I write of groves, of twilights, and I sing The Court of Mab, and of the Fairy King; I write of hell; I sing (and ever shall) Of heaven, and hope to have it after all.
 * I sing of brooks, of blossoms, birds, and bowers:
 * 1. "The Argument of His Book".


 * To read my booke the Virgin Shie May blush, (while Brutus standeth by:) But when He’s gone, read through what’s writ, And never staine a cheeke for it.
 * 4. "Another [to his Booke]".


 * Thus woe succeeds a woe, as wave a wave.
 * 48. "Sorrows Succeed". Compare: "One woe doth tread upon another’s heel, So fast they follow", William Shakespeare, Hamlet, Act iv. Sc. 7.

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.
 * Cherry ripe, ripe, ripe, I cry,
 * 53. "Cherry Ripe".

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.'''
 * '''Give me a kiss, and to that kiss a score;
 * 74. "To Anthea: Ah, My Anthea!"

And nothing I did say; But with my finger pointed to The lips of Julia.
 * Some asked me where the rubies grew,
 * 75. "The Rock of Rubies, and the Quarrie of Pearls".

Then spoke I to my girl To part her lips, and showed them there The quarelets of pearl.
 * Some asked how pearls did grow, and where?
 * 75. "The Rock of Rubies, and the Quarrie of Pearls".

Kindles in clothes a wantonness:''' A lawn about the shoulders thrown
 * '''A sweet disorder in the dress

Into a fine distraction: An erring lace which here and there Enthralls 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.'''
 * 83. "Delight in Disorder".

Pray love me little, so you love me long.
 * You say to me-wards your affection's strong;
 * 143. "Love Me Little, Love Me Long". Compare: "Love me little, love me long", Christopher Marlowe, The Jew of Malta, Act iv; "Me love you long time", 2 Live Crew, "Me So Horny" (sampled from the Stanley Kubrick film, Full Metal Jacket).

Which starlike sparkle in their skies; Nor be you proud that you can see All hearts your captives, yours yet free
 * Sweet, be not proud of those two eyes
 * 160. "To Dianeme"

The dew bespangling herb and tree.
 * Get up, sweet Slug-a-bed, and see
 * 178. "Corinna's Going A-Maying".

Nay, profanation to keep in.
 * 'Tis sin,
 * 178. "Corinna's Going A-Maying".

A fable, song, or fleeting shade, All love, all liking, all delight Lies drowned with us in endless night.
 * So when or you or I are made
 * 178. "Corinna's Going A-Maying".

Come, my Corinna, come, let's go a Maying. 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's to setting.
 * Then while time serves, and we are but decaying.
 * 178. "Corinna's Going a Maying".
 * '''Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,
 * 208. "To the Virgins to Make Much of Time". Compare: "Gather the rose of love whilest yet is time", Edmund Spenser, The Faerie Queene, book ii. canto xii. stanza 75. ; "Let us crown ourselves with rose-buds, before they be withered", Wisdom of Solomon, ii. 8.

Or like those maiden showers Which, by the peep of day, do strew A baptism o’er the flowers.
 * Fall on me like a silent dew,
 * 227. "To Music, to becalm his Fever".


 * Art quickens nature; care will make a face; Neglected beauty perisheth apace.
 * 234. "Neglect".

St. Ambrose says, without the thorn; But for man's fault then was the thorn Without the fragrant rose-bud born; But ne'er the rose without the thorn.
 * Before man's fall the rose was born,
 * 251. "The Rose" (published c. 1648). Compare: "Flower of all hue, and without thorn the rose", John Milton, Paradise Lost, book iv. line 256.; "Every rose has it's thorn", Poison, "Every Rose Has Its Thorn".

Will 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.
 * God doth not promise here to man that He
 * 252. "God's Time Must End Our Trouble".

Thy Protestant to be, Or bid me love, and I will give A loving heart to thee.
 * Bid me to live, and I will live
 * 267. "To Anthea, st. 1".

Under that cypress tree; Or bid me die, and I will dare E'en Death, to die for thee.
 * Bid me despair, and I'll despair,
 * 267. "To Anthea, st. 5".

It is the end that crowns us, not the fight.'''
 * '''If well thou hast begun, go on fore-right
 * 309. "The End".

You haste away so soon: As yet the early rising sun Has not attained his noon.
 * Fair daffadills, we weep to see
 * 316. "To Daffadills".

Why do ye fall so fast? Your date is not so past But you may stay yet here awhile To blush and gently smile, And go at last.
 * Fair pledges of a fruitful tree,
 * 467. "To Blossoms".

A little out, and then, As if they playèd at bo-peep, Did soon draw in again.
 * Her pretty feet, like snails, did creep
 * 525. "To Mistress Susanna Southwell" ("Upon Her Feet"). Compare: "Her feet beneath her petticoat / Like little mice stole in and out", Sir John Suckling, "Ballad upon a Wedding".

The shooting stars attend thee; And the elves also, Whose little eyes glow Like the sparks of fire, befriend thee.
 * Her eyes the glow-worm lend thee,
 * 619. "The Night Piece to Julia".

The sure, sweet cement, glue, and lime of love.
 * What is a kiss? Why this, as some approve:
 * 622. "A Kiss".

Then, then (methinks) how sweetly flows That liquefaction of her clothes. Next, when I cast mine eyes and see That brave vibration each way free; Oh how that glittering taketh me!
 * Whenas in silks my Julia goes,
 * 779. "Upon Julia's Clothes".

Of amber cleanly buried.
 * I saw a flie within a beade
 * 817. "The Amber Bead" (published c. 1648). Compare: "Whence we see spiders, flies, or ants entombed and preserved forever in amber, a more than royal tomb", Francis Bacon, Historia Vitæ et Mortis; Sylva Sylvarum, Cent. i. Exper. 100.

Joan as my Lady is as good i' the dark.
 * Night makes no difference 'twixt the Priest and Clerk;
 * 864. "No Difference i' th' Dark".

New things succeed, as former things grow old.
 * Thus times do shift, each thing his turn does hold;
 * 892. "Ceremonies for Candlemas Eve".

As made us nobly wild, not mad; And yet each verse of thine Outdid the meat, outdid the frolic wine.
 * We such clusters had
 * 911. "Ode for Ben Jonson" ("An Ode for Him").

Nothing's so hard but search will find it out.
 * Attempt the end, and never stand to doubt;
 * 1008. "Seek and Find". Compare: "Nil tam difficilest quin quærendo investigari possiet" (transalted as "Nothing is so difficult but that it may be found out by seeking"), Terence, Heautontimoroumenos, iv. 2, 8.

Noble Numbers
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.
 * Here a little child I stand
 * 95, "A Child's Grace" ("Another Grace for a Child").

About

 * Fresh with all airs of woodland brooks And scents of showers, Take to your haunt of holy books  This saint of flowers.When meadows burn with budding May,  And heaven is blue, Before his shrine our prayers we say,—  Saint Robin true.Love crowned with thorns is on his staff,—  Thorns of sweet briar; His benediction is a laugh,  Birds are his choir.His sacred robe of white and red  Unction distils; He hath a nimbus round his head  Of daffodils.
 * Edmund Gosse, "With a Copy of Herrick" in Firdausi in Exile, and Other Poems (1885), pp. 161–2