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Against diseases here the strongest fence is the defensive vertue, Abstinence.

Robert Herrick

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Robert Herrick
Age: 83 †
Born: 1591
Born: August 24
Died: 1674
Died: October 12
Poet
Writer
London
England
Strongest
Sex
Disease
Abstinence
Defensive
Diseases
Fence

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O thou, the drink of gods and angels! Wine
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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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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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No, not Jove Himselfe, at one time, can be wise and love.
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Temptations hurt not, though they have accesse Satan o'ercomes none but by willingnesse.
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Happy is the bride that the sun shines on.
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Who covets more is evermore a slave.
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A winning wave, (deserving note.) In the tempestuous petticote, A careless shoe-string, in whose tye I see a wilde civility,-- Doe more bewitch me than when art Is too precise in every part.
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In ways to greatness think on this, That slippery all ambition is
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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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Tears are the noble language of the eye.
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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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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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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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Art quickens nature care will make a face Neglected beauty perisheth apace.
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Fight thou with shafts of silver, and o'ercome When no force else can get the masterdom
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You say to me-wards your affection's strong Pray love me little, so you love me long.
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A sweet disorder in the dress Kindles in clothes a wantonness A lawn about the shoulders thrown Into a fine distraction.
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T is the will that makes the action good or ill.
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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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