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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
Sincere
Things
Delighting
Lustre
Evermore
Candor
More quotes by Robert Herrick
Men are suspicious prone to discontent: Subjects still loathe the present Government.
Robert Herrick
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.
Robert Herrick
Tis hard to find God, but to comprehend Him, as He is, is labour without end.
Robert Herrick
Seldom comes Glory till a man be dead.
Robert Herrick
Like will to like, each creature loves his kind.
Robert Herrick
When one is past, another care we have Thus woe succeeds a woe, as wave a wave.
Robert Herrick
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.
Robert Herrick
If little labour, little are our gains: Man's fortunes are according to his pains.
Robert Herrick
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
When words we want, love teacheth to indite And what we blush to speak, she bids us write.
Robert Herrick
O thou, the drink of gods and angels! Wine
Robert Herrick
Tears are the noble language of the eye.
Robert Herrick
Who covets more is evermore a slave.
Robert Herrick
In ways to greatness think on this, That slippery all ambition is
Robert Herrick
Learn this of me, where'er thy lot doth fall, Short lot, or not, to be content with all.
Robert Herrick
Outdid the meat, outdid the frolic wine.
Robert Herrick
The body is the soul's poor house or home, whose ribs the laths are and whose flesh the loam.
Robert Herrick
The person lives twice who lives the first life well
Robert Herrick
What though the sea be calm? trust to the shore, Ships have been drown'd, where late they danc'd before.
Robert Herrick
Well I sup and well I dine, When I drink my frolic wine.
Robert Herrick