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So when or you or I are made A fable, song, or fleeting shade All love, all liking, all delight Lies drowned with us in endless night. Then while time serves, and we are but decaying Come, my Corinna, come, let's go a Maying.

Robert Herrick

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Robert Herrick
Age: 83 †
Born: 1591
Born: August 24
Died: 1674
Died: October 12
Poet
Writer
London
England
Come
Fleeting
Made
Shade
Time
Endless
Decaying
Love
Delight
Fable
Lies
Drowned
Lying
Fables
Song
Liking
Night
Serves

More quotes by Robert Herrick

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A winning wave, (deserving note.) In the tempestuous petticote, A careless shoe-string, in whose tye I see a wilde civility,-- Doe more bewitch me than when art Is too precise in every part.
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Hast thou attempted greatnesse? Then go on Back-turning slackens resolution.
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Give me a kiss, and to that kiss a score: Then to that twenty, add a hundred more.
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If little labour, little are our gains: Man's fortunes are according to his pains.
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But here's the sunset of a tedious day, These two asleep are I'll but be undrest, And so to bed. Pray wish us all good rest.
Robert Herrick
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Let wealth come in by comely thrift, And not by any sordid shift 'T is haste Makes waste Extremes have still their fault. Who gripes too hard the dry and slipp'ry sand, Holds none at all, or little, in his hand.
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The May-pole is up, Now give me the cup I'll drink to the garlands around it But first unto those Whose hands did compose The glory of flowers that crown'd it.
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Men are suspicious prone to discontent: Subjects still loathe the present Government.
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None pities him that is in the snare, who warned before, would not beware.
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T is the will that makes the action good or ill.
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Conquer we shall, but, we must first contend! It's not the fight that crowns us, but the end.
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Tears are the noble language of the eye.
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He who has suffered shipwreck, fears to sail Upon the seas, though with a gentle gale.
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A little saint best fits a little shrine, A little prop best fits a little vine, As my small cruse best fits my little wine.
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Thus times do shift, each thing his turn does hold New things succeed, as former things grow old.
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A sweet disorder in the dress Kindles in clothes a wantonness A lawn about the shoulders thrown Into a fine distraction.
Robert Herrick
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What though the sea be calm? trust to the shore, Ships have been drown'd, where late they danc'd before.
Robert Herrick
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In sober mornings do not thou rehearse The holy incantation of a verse
Robert Herrick
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No, not Jove Himselfe, at one time, can be wise and love.
Robert Herrick
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Tis not the food, but the content, That makes the table's merriment.
Robert Herrick