Quote

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.

Robert Herrick

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Robert Herrick
Age: 83 †
Born: 1591
Born: August 24
Died: 1674
Died: October 12
Poet
Writer
London
England
Sunset
Pray
Bed
Praying
Rest
Wish
Two
Tedious
Good
Asleep

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Tis hard to find God, but to comprehend Him, as He is, is labour without end.
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Against diseases here the strongest fence is the defensive vertue, Abstinence.
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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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Thus times do shift, each thing his turn does hold New things succeed, as former things grow old.
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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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Happy is the bride that the sun shines on.
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Art quickens nature care will make a face Neglected beauty perisheth apace.
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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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Hast thou attempted greatnesse? Then go on Back-turning slackens resolution.
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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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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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Temptations hurt not, though they have accesse Satan o'ercomes none but by willingnesse.
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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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Conquer we shall, but, we must first contend! It's not the fight that crowns us, but the end.
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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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In the hour of my distress, When temptations me oppress, And when I my sins confess, Sweet Spirit, comfort me.
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