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Drink wine, and live here blitheful while ye may The morrow's life too late is live to-day.

Robert Herrick

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Robert Herrick
Age: 83 †
Born: 1591
Born: August 24
Died: 1674
Died: October 12
Poet
Writer
London
England
Drink
May
Live
Life
Morrow
Wine
Late

More quotes by Robert Herrick

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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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Bid me to love, and I will give a loving heart to thee.
Robert Herrick
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O thou, the drink of gods and angels! Wine
Robert Herrick
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Feed him ye must, whose food fills you. And that this pleasure is like raine, Not sent ye for to drowne your paine, But for to make it spring againe.
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That age is best which is the first When youth and blood are warmer.
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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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T is the will that makes the action good or ill.
Robert Herrick
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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!
Robert Herrick
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Happy is the bride that the sun shines on.
Robert Herrick
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If little labour, little are our gains: Man's fortunes are according to his pains.
Robert Herrick
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In ways to greatness think on this, That slippery all ambition is
Robert Herrick
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Tis not the food, but the content, That makes the table's merriment.
Robert Herrick
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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.
Robert Herrick
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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.
Robert Herrick
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Men are suspicious prone to discontent: Subjects still loathe the present Government.
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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Those Saints, which God loves best, The Devil tempts not least.
Robert Herrick
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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.
Robert Herrick
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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.
Robert Herrick
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Learn this of me, where'er thy lot doth fall, Short lot, or not, to be content with all.
Robert Herrick