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
Two
Tedious
Good
Asleep
Sunset
Pray
Bed
Praying
Rest
Wish

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None pities him that is in the snare, who warned before, would not beware.
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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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In sober mornings do not thou rehearse The holy incantation of a verse
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Like will to like, each creature loves his kind.
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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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Tis not the food, but the content, That makes the table's merriment.
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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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Whatever comes, let's be content withal: Among God's blessings there is no one small.
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Temptations hurt not, though they have accesse Satan o'ercomes none but by willingnesse.
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Hast thou attempted greatnesse? Then go on Back-turning slackens resolution.
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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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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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Conquer we shall, but, we must first contend! It's not the fight that crowns us, but the end.
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He who has suffered shipwreck, fears to sail Upon the seas, though with a gentle gale.
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Happy is the bride that the sun shines on.
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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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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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So when or you or I are made A fable, song, or fleeting shade All love, all liking, all delight Lies drowned with us in endless night. Then while time serves, and we are but decaying Come, my Corinna, come, let's go a Maying.
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Some asked me where the rubies grew, And nothing I did say But with my finger pointed to The lips of Julia.
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