Quote

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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Robert Herrick
Age: 83 †
Born: 1591
Born: August 24
Died: 1674
Died: October 12
Poet
Writer
London
England
Give
Cups
May
Flowers
Firsts
Flower
Garlands
First
Glory
Pole
Giving
Whose
Compose
Drink
Crown
Hands
Crowns
Around
Unto

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No, not Jove Himselfe, at one time, can be wise and love.
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Gather ye rosebuds, while ye may.
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Tears are the noble language of the eye.
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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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The body is the soul's poor house or home, whose ribs the laths are and whose flesh the loam.
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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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Against diseases here the strongest fence is the defensive vertue, Abstinence.
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When one is past, another care we have Thus woe succeeds a woe, as wave a wave.
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The person lives twice who lives the first life well
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Tis not the food, but the content, That makes the table's merriment.
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Happy is the bride that the sun shines on.
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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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Seldom comes Glory till a man be dead.
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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.
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Each must in virtue strive for to excel That man lives twice that lives the first life well.
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Men are suspicious prone to discontent: Subjects still loathe the present Government.
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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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Humble we must be, if to heaven we go High is the roof there, but the gate is low.
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In ways to greatness think on this, That slippery all ambition is
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