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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.

Robert Herrick

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

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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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Next, when I cast mine eyes and see That brave vibration each way free, O how that glittering taketh me!
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Gather ye rosebuds, while ye may.
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Bid me to live, and I will liveThy Protestant to be,Or bid me love, and I will giveA loving heart to thee.
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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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Tis hard to find God, but to comprehend Him, as He is, is labour without end.
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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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None pities him that is in the snare, who warned before, would not beware.
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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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Oft have I heard both youths and virgins say, Birds chuse their mates and couple too this day: But by their flight I never can devine When I shall couple with my valentine.
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Necessity makes dastards valiant men.
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Praise they that will times past, I joy to see My selfe now live: this age best pleaseth mee.
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If little labour, little are our gains: Man's fortunes are according to his pains.
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A spark neglected makes a mighty fire.
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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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