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Tis hard to find God, but to comprehend Him, as He is, is labour without end.

Robert Herrick

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Robert Herrick
Age: 83 †
Born: 1591
Born: August 24
Died: 1674
Died: October 12
Poet
Writer
London
England
Find
Without
Hard
Comprehend
Labour
God
Ends

More quotes by Robert Herrick

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A winning wave, (deserving note.) In the tempestuous petticote, A careless shoe-string, in whose tye I see a wilde civility,-- Doe more bewitch me than when art Is too precise in every part.
Robert Herrick
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When one is past, another care we have Thus woe succeeds a woe, as wave a wave.
Robert Herrick
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Temptations hurt not, though they have accesse Satan o'ercomes none but by willingnesse.
Robert Herrick
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Tis not the food, but the content, That makes the table's merriment.
Robert Herrick
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Who covets more is evermore a slave.
Robert Herrick
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Give house-room to the best 'tis never known Verture and pleasure both to dwell in one.
Robert Herrick
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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.
Robert Herrick
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Seldom comes Glory till a man be dead.
Robert Herrick
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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.
Robert Herrick
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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.
Robert Herrick
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Hast thou attempted greatnesse? Then go on Back-turning slackens resolution.
Robert Herrick
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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.
Robert Herrick
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In the hour of my distress, When temptations me oppress, And when I my sins confess, Sweet Spirit, comfort me.
Robert Herrick
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Well I sup and well I dine, When I drink my frolic wine.
Robert Herrick
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Men are suspicious prone to discontent: Subjects still loathe the present Government.
Robert Herrick
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Tears are the noble language of the eye.
Robert Herrick
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Humble we must be, if to heaven we go High is the roof there, but the gate is low.
Robert Herrick
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Whatever comes, let's be content withal: Among God's blessings there is no one small.
Robert Herrick
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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.
Robert Herrick
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Art quickens nature care will make a face Neglected beauty perisheth apace.
Robert Herrick