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Tis not the food, but the content, That makes the table's merriment.

Robert Herrick

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Robert Herrick
Age: 83 †
Born: 1591
Born: August 24
Died: 1674
Died: October 12
Poet
Writer
London
England
Table
Tables
Content
Eating
Food
Makes
Merriment

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Conquer we shall, but, we must first contend! It's not the fight that crowns us, but the end.
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No, not Jove Himselfe, at one time, can be wise and love.
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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.
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What is a kiss? Why this, as some approve: the sure, sweet cement, glue, and lime of love.
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Seldom comes Glory till a man be dead.
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That age is best which is the first When youth and blood are warmer.
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Necessity makes dastards valiant men.
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Know when to speak - for many times it brings danger, to give the best advice to kings.
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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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Whatever comes, let's be content withal: Among God's blessings there is no one small.
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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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Go to your banquet then, but use delight So as to rise still with an appetite.
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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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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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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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You say to me-wards your affection's strong Pray love me little, so you love me long.
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Then be not coy, but use your time And while ye may, go marry: For having lost but once your prime, You may for ever tarry.
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None pities him that is in the snare, who warned before, would not beware.
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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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