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Outdid the meat, outdid the frolic wine.

Robert Herrick

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Robert Herrick
Age: 83 †
Born: 1591
Born: August 24
Died: 1674
Died: October 12
Poet
Writer
London
England
Frolic
Meat
Wine

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Like will to like, each creature loves his kind.
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No, not Jove Himselfe, at one time, can be wise and love.
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Happy is the bride that the sun shines on.
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In the hour of my distress, When temptations me oppress, And when I my sins confess, Sweet Spirit, comfort me.
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A spark neglected makes a mighty fire.
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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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Against diseases here the strongest fence is the defensive vertue, Abstinence.
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O thou, the drink of gods and angels! Wine
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Well I sup and well I dine, When I drink my frolic wine.
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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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Praise they that will times past, I joy to see My selfe now live: this age best pleaseth mee.
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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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Some asked me where the rubies grew, And nothing I did say But with my finger pointed to The lips of Julia.
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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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Necessity makes dastards valiant men.
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Whatever comes, let's be content withal: Among God's blessings there is no one small.
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Go to your banquet then, but use delight So as to rise still with an appetite.
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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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