Quote

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.

Robert Herrick

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Robert Herrick
Age: 83 †
Born: 1591
Born: August 24
Died: 1674
Died: October 12
Poet
Writer
London
England
Eye
Bonnet
Away
Bonnets
Find
Bore
Love
Bores
Bees
Brave
Seek
Eyes

More quotes by Robert Herrick

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Tis hard to find God, but to comprehend Him, as He is, is labour without end.
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In sober mornings do not thou rehearse The holy incantation of a verse
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Art quickens nature care will make a face Neglected beauty perisheth apace.
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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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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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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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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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Drink wine, and live here blitheful while ye may The morrow's life too late is live to-day.
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Thus times do shift, each thing his turn does hold New things succeed, as former things grow old.
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The person lives twice who lives the first life well
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Temptations hurt not, though they have accesse Satan o'ercomes none but by willingnesse.
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If little labour, little are our gains: Man's fortunes are according to his pains.
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Happy is the bride that the sun shines on.
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Like will to like, each creature loves his kind.
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T is the will that makes the action good or ill.
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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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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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Who covets more is evermore a slave.
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Necessity makes dastards valiant men.
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Praise they that will times past, I joy to see My selfe now live: this age best pleaseth mee.
Robert Herrick