Quote

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.

Robert Herrick

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Robert Herrick
Age: 83 †
Born: 1591
Born: August 24
Died: 1674
Died: October 12
Poet
Writer
London
England
Hands
Thee
Littles
Cold
Little
Stand
Children
Either
Heaving
Hand
Amen
Child
Lift
Though
Lifts
Fall
Meat

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Happy is the bride that the sun shines on.
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Whatever comes, let's be content withal: Among God's blessings there is no one small.
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Those Saints, which God loves best, The Devil tempts not least.
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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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That age is best which is the first When youth and blood are warmer.
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The first act's doubtful, but we say, it is the last commends the play.
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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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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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He who has suffered shipwreck, fears to sail Upon the seas, though with a gentle gale.
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When the artless doctor sees No one hope, but of his fees, And his skill runs on the lees Sweet Spirit, comfort me! When his potion and his pill, Has, or none, or little skill, Meet for nothing, but to kill Sweet Spirit, comfort me!
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No, not Jove Himselfe, at one time, can be wise and love.
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Gather ye rosebuds, while ye may.
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