Quote

In prayer the lips ne'er act the winning part, Without the sweet concurrence of the heart.

Robert Herrick

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Robert Herrick
Age: 83 †
Born: 1591
Born: August 24
Died: 1674
Died: October 12
Poet
Writer
London
England
Prayer
Winning
Part
Without
Heart
Concurrence
Lips
Sweet

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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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Know when to speak - for many times it brings danger, to give the best advice to kings.
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Give me a kiss, and to that kiss a score: Then to that twenty, add a hundred more.
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The person lives twice who lives the first life well
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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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Against diseases here the strongest fence is the defensive vertue, Abstinence.
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Tis not the food, but the content, That makes the table's merriment.
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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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Tears are the noble language of the eye.
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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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What is a kiss? Why this, as some approve: the sure, sweet cement, glue, and lime of love.
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T is the will that makes the action good or ill.
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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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Who covets more is evermore a slave.
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Go to your banquet then, but use delight So as to rise still with an appetite.
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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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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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Hast thou attempted greatnesse? Then go on Back-turning slackens resolution.
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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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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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