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The body is the soul's poor house or home, whose ribs the laths are and whose flesh the loam.

Robert Herrick

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Robert Herrick
Age: 83 †
Born: 1591
Born: August 24
Died: 1674
Died: October 12
Poet
Writer
London
England
Body
Soul
Ribs
Flesh
Whose
Poor
House
Home

More quotes by Robert Herrick

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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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If little labour, little are our gains: Man's fortunes are according to his pains.
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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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Well I sup and well I dine, When I drink my frolic 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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Praise they that will times past, I joy to see My selfe now live: this age best pleaseth mee.
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In ways to greatness think on this, That slippery all ambition is
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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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I dare not ask a kiss I dare not beg a smile Lest having that or this, I might grow proud the while. No, no, the utmost share Of my desire shall be Only to kiss that air, That lately kissed thee.
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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.
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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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Happy is the bride that the sun shines on.
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Next, when I cast mine eyes and see That brave vibration each way free, O how that glittering taketh me!
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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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That age is best which is the first When youth and blood are warmer.
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Who covets more is evermore a slave.
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No, not Jove Himselfe, at one time, can be wise and love.
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Seldom comes Glory till a man be dead.
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Against diseases here the strongest fence is the defensive vertue, Abstinence.
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Things are evermore sincere / Candor here, and lustre there / Delighting.
Robert Herrick