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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
Shade
Made
Endless
Decaying
Time
Delight
Fable
Love
Lies
Drowned
Lying
Fables
Liking
Song
Serves
Night
Fleeting
Come

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When words we want, love teacheth to indite And what we blush to speak, she bids us write.
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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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Go to your banquet then, but use delight So as to rise still with an appetite.
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A spark neglected makes a mighty fire.
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Next, when I cast mine eyes and see That brave vibration each way free, O how that glittering taketh me!
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Know when to speak - for many times it brings danger, to give the best advice to kings.
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Happy is the bride that the sun shines on.
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Things are evermore sincere / Candor here, and lustre there / Delighting.
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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.
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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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No, not Jove Himselfe, at one time, can be wise and love.
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If little labour, little are our gains: Man's fortunes are according to his pains.
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Art quickens nature care will make a face Neglected beauty perisheth apace.
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Each must in virtue strive for to excel That man lives twice that lives the first life well.
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What is a kiss? Why this, as some approve: the sure, sweet cement, glue, and lime of love.
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Tis not the food, but the content, That makes the table's merriment.
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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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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.
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Gather ye rosebuds, while ye may.
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I dare not ask a kiss I dare not beg a smile Lest having that or this, I might grow proud the while. No, no, the utmost share Of my desire shall be Only to kiss that air, That lately kissed thee.
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