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None pities him that is in the snare, who warned before, would not beware.

Robert Herrick

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Robert Herrick
Age: 83 †
Born: 1591
Born: August 24
Died: 1674
Died: October 12
Poet
Writer
London
England
Pities
Snare
Snares
Warned
Beware
Pity
None
Would

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Outdid the meat, outdid the frolic wine.
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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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Fight thou with shafts of silver, and o'ercome When no force else can get the masterdom
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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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The May-pole is up, Now give me the cup I'll drink to the garlands around it But first unto those Whose hands did compose The glory of flowers that crown'd it.
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Whatever comes, let's be content withal: Among God's blessings there is no one small.
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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 one is past, another care we have Thus woe succeeds a woe, as wave a wave.
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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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Know when to speak - for many times it brings danger, to give the best advice to kings.
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T is the will that makes the action good or ill.
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Tears are the noble language of the eye.
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What though the sea be calm? trust to the shore, Ships have been drown'd, where late they danc'd before.
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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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Learn this of me, where'er thy lot doth fall, Short lot, or not, to be content with all.
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A sweet disorder in the dress Kindles in clothes a wantonness A lawn about the shoulders thrown Into a fine distraction.
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If little labour, little are our gains: Man's fortunes are according to his pains.
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Give me a kiss, and to that kiss a score: Then to that twenty, add a hundred more.
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The person lives twice who lives the first life well
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That age is best which is the first When youth and blood are warmer.
Robert Herrick