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Things are evermore sincere / Candor here, and lustre there / Delighting.

Robert Herrick

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Robert Herrick
Age: 83 †
Born: 1591
Born: August 24
Died: 1674
Died: October 12
Poet
Writer
London
England
Delighting
Lustre
Evermore
Candor
Sincere
Things

More quotes by Robert Herrick

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O thou, the drink of gods and angels! Wine
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Fight thou with shafts of silver, and o'ercome When no force else can get the masterdom
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Who covets more is evermore a slave.
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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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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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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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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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In prayer the lips ne'er act the winning part, Without the sweet concurrence of the heart.
Robert Herrick
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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.
Robert Herrick
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Outdid the meat, outdid the frolic wine.
Robert Herrick
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Against diseases here the strongest fence is the defensive vertue, Abstinence.
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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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T is the will that makes the action good or ill.
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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A spark neglected makes a mighty fire.
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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Tis not the food, but the content, That makes the table's merriment.
Robert Herrick
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When one is past, another care we have Thus woe succeeds a woe, as wave a wave.
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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Give house-room to the best 'tis never known Verture and pleasure both to dwell in one.
Robert Herrick