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Some asked me where the rubies grew, And nothing I did say But with my finger pointed to The lips of Julia.

Robert Herrick

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Robert Herrick
Age: 83 †
Born: 1591
Born: August 24
Died: 1674
Died: October 12
Poet
Writer
London
England
Asked
Grew
Rubies
Nothing
Julia
Jewelry
Pointed
Finger
Lips
Fingers

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O thou, the drink of gods and angels! Wine
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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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Men are suspicious prone to discontent: Subjects still loathe the present Government.
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Tis hard to find God, but to comprehend Him, as He is, is labour without end.
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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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The body is the soul's poor house or home, whose ribs the laths are and whose flesh the loam.
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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.
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And as this round (ring) is nowhere found to flaw, or else to sever. So let our love as endless prove and pure as gold forever.
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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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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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A spark neglected makes a mighty fire.
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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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Next, when I cast mine eyes and see That brave vibration each way free, O how that glittering taketh me!
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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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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.
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Well I sup and well I dine, When I drink my frolic wine.
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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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In prayer the lips ne'er act the winning part, Without the sweet concurrence of the heart.
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Things are evermore sincere / Candor here, and lustre there / Delighting.
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Drink wine, and live here blitheful while ye may The morrow's life too late is live to-day.
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