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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
Lips
Sweet
Prayer
Winning
Part
Without
Heart
Concurrence

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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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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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Bid me to live, and I will liveThy Protestant to be,Or bid me love, and I will giveA loving heart to thee.
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Go to your banquet then, but use delight So as to rise still with an appetite.
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Tears are the noble language of the eye.
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Necessity makes dastards valiant men.
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A little saint best fits a little shrine, A little prop best fits a little vine, As my small cruse best fits my little wine.
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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.
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Men are suspicious prone to discontent: Subjects still loathe the present Government.
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O thou, the drink of gods and angels! Wine
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It takes great wit and interest and energy to be happy. The pursuit of happiness is a great activity. One must be open and alive. It is the greatest feat man has to accomplish.
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A spark neglected makes a mighty fire.
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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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When words we want, love teacheth to indite And what we blush to speak, she bids us write.
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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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The body is the soul's poor house or home, whose ribs the laths are and whose flesh the loam.
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Give house-room to the best 'tis never known Verture and pleasure both to dwell in one.
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Learn this of me, where'er thy lot doth fall, Short lot, or not, to be content with all.
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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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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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