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A spark neglected makes a mighty fire.

Robert Herrick

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Robert Herrick
Age: 83 †
Born: 1591
Born: August 24
Died: 1674
Died: October 12
Poet
Writer
London
England
Spark
Neglected
Sparks
Mighty
Fire
Makes

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T is the will that makes the action good or ill.
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Tis not the food, but the content, That makes the table's merriment.
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Go to your banquet then, but use delight So as to rise still with an appetite.
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Happy is the bride that the sun shines on.
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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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A winning wave, (deserving note.) In the tempestuous petticote, A careless shoe-string, in whose tye I see a wilde civility,-- Doe more bewitch me than when art Is too precise in every part.
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When words we want, love teacheth to indite And what we blush to speak, she bids us write.
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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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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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Bid me to live, and I will liveThy Protestant to be,Or bid me love, and I will giveA loving heart to thee.
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For pitty, Sir, find out that Bee Which bore my Love away I'le seek him in your Bonnet brave, I'le seek him in your eyes.
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Art quickens nature care will make a face Neglected beauty perisheth apace.
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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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Things are evermore sincere / Candor here, and lustre there / Delighting.
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Like will to like, each creature loves his kind.
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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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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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Each must in virtue strive for to excel That man lives twice that lives the first life well.
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In prayer the lips ne'er act the winning part, Without the sweet concurrence of the heart.
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