Quote

And as this round (ring) is nowhere found to flaw, or else to sever. So let our love as endless prove and pure as gold forever.

Robert Herrick

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Robert Herrick
Age: 83 †
Born: 1591
Born: August 24
Died: 1674
Died: October 12
Poet
Writer
London
England
Love
Rounds
Sever
Endless
Flaw
Gold
Wedding
Prove
Ring
Pure
Flaws
Forever
Nowhere
Found
Rings
Else
Round

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Like will to like, each creature loves his kind.
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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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Drink wine, and live here blitheful while ye may The morrow's life too late is live to-day.
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Go to your banquet then, but use delight So as to rise still with an appetite.
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Gather ye rosebuds, while ye may.
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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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Each must in virtue strive for to excel That man lives twice that lives the first life well.
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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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When words we want, love teacheth to indite And what we blush to speak, she bids us write.
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Temptations hurt not, though they have accesse Satan o'ercomes none but by willingnesse.
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Men are suspicious prone to discontent: Subjects still loathe the present Government.
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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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Things are evermore sincere / Candor here, and lustre there / Delighting.
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But here's the sunset of a tedious day, These two asleep are I'll but be undrest, And so to bed. Pray wish us all good rest.
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Bid me to love, and I will give a loving heart to thee.
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That age is best which is the first When youth and blood are warmer.
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The first act's doubtful, but we say, it is the last commends the play.
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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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Fight thou with shafts of silver, and o'ercome When no force else can get the masterdom
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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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