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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

More quotes by Robert Herrick

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Go to your banquet then, but use delight So as to rise still with an appetite.
Robert Herrick
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What is a kiss? Why this, as some approve: the sure, sweet cement, glue, and lime of love.
Robert Herrick
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In sober mornings do not thou rehearse The holy incantation of a verse
Robert Herrick
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The first act's doubtful, but we say, it is the last commends the play.
Robert Herrick
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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.
Robert Herrick
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He who has suffered shipwreck, fears to sail Upon the seas, though with a gentle gale.
Robert Herrick
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Humble we must be, if to heaven we go High is the roof there, but the gate is low.
Robert Herrick
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Who covets more is evermore a slave.
Robert Herrick
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Thus times do shift, each thing his turn does hold New things succeed, as former things grow old.
Robert Herrick
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That age is best which is the first When youth and blood are warmer.
Robert Herrick
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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.
Robert Herrick
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Give me a kiss, and to that kiss a score: Then to that twenty, add a hundred more.
Robert Herrick
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O thou, the drink of gods and angels! Wine
Robert Herrick
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In the hour of my distress, When temptations me oppress, And when I my sins confess, Sweet Spirit, comfort me.
Robert Herrick
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Like will to like, each creature loves his kind.
Robert Herrick
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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.
Robert Herrick
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Whatever comes, let's be content withal: Among God's blessings there is no one small.
Robert Herrick
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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.
Robert Herrick
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Bid me to love, and I will give a loving heart to thee.
Robert Herrick
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Next, when I cast mine eyes and see That brave vibration each way free, O how that glittering taketh me!
Robert Herrick