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Give me a kiss, and to that kiss a score: Then to that twenty, add a hundred more.
Robert Herrick
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Robert Herrick
Age: 83 †
Born: 1591
Born: August 24
Died: 1674
Died: October 12
Poet
Writer
London
England
Twenty
Twenties
Kissing
Hundred
Funny
Give
Score
Giving
Kiss
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More quotes by Robert Herrick
A spark neglected makes a mighty fire.
Robert Herrick
Learn this of me, where'er thy lot doth fall, Short lot, or not, to be content with all.
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No, not Jove Himselfe, at one time, can be wise and love.
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Humble we must be, if to heaven we go High is the roof there, but the gate is low.
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In prayer the lips ne'er act the winning part, Without the sweet concurrence of the heart.
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None pities him that is in the snare, who warned before, would not beware.
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It takes great wit and interest and energy to be happy. The pursuit of happiness is a great activity. One must be open and alive. It is the greatest feat man has to accomplish.
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Those Saints, which God loves best, The Devil tempts not least.
Robert Herrick
For pitty, Sir, find out that Bee Which bore my Love away I'le seek him in your Bonnet brave, I'le seek him in your eyes.
Robert Herrick
Who covets more is evermore a slave.
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Whatever comes, let's be content withal: Among God's blessings there is no one small.
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When one is past, another care we have Thus woe succeeds a woe, as wave a wave.
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Temptations hurt not, though they have accesse Satan o'ercomes none but by willingnesse.
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Cherry-ripe, ripe, ripe, I cry, 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.
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Necessity makes dastards valiant men.
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Gather ye rosebuds, while ye may.
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Happy is the bride that the sun shines on.
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Feed him ye must, whose food fills you. And that this pleasure is like raine, Not sent ye for to drowne your paine, But for to make it spring againe.
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Hast thou attempted greatnesse? Then go on Back-turning slackens resolution.
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When words we want, love teacheth to indite And what we blush to speak, she bids us write.
Robert Herrick