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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
Home
Body
Soul
Ribs
Flesh
Whose
Poor
House

More quotes by Robert Herrick

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Seldom comes Glory till a man be dead.
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The first act's doubtful, but we say, it is the last commends the play.
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Gather ye rosebuds, while ye may.
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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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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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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.
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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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In sober mornings do not thou rehearse The holy incantation of a verse
Robert Herrick
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Those Saints, which God loves best, The Devil tempts not least.
Robert Herrick
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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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Oft have I heard both youths and virgins say, Birds chuse their mates and couple too this day: But by their flight I never can devine When I shall couple with my valentine.
Robert Herrick
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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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He who has suffered shipwreck, fears to sail Upon the seas, though with a gentle gale.
Robert Herrick
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O thou, the drink of gods and angels! Wine
Robert Herrick
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Humble we must be, if to heaven we go High is the roof there, but the gate is low.
Robert Herrick
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In ways to greatness think on this, That slippery all ambition is
Robert Herrick
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Bid me to love, and I will give a loving heart to thee.
Robert Herrick
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Go to your banquet then, but use delight So as to rise still with an appetite.
Robert Herrick
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The person lives twice who lives the first life well
Robert Herrick
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You say to me-wards your affection's strong Pray love me little, so you love me long.
Robert Herrick