Quote

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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Robert Herrick
Age: 83 †
Born: 1591
Born: August 24
Died: 1674
Died: October 12
Poet
Writer
London
England
Pleasure
Paine
Must
Fills
Make
Feed
Like
Sent
Spring
Eating
Whose
Food

More quotes by Robert Herrick

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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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The body is the soul's poor house or home, whose ribs the laths are and whose flesh the loam.
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Temptations hurt not, though they have accesse Satan o'ercomes none but by willingnesse.
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Tis hard to find God, but to comprehend Him, as He is, is labour without end.
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The first act's doubtful, but we say, it is the last commends the play.
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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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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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Go to your banquet then, but use delight So as to rise still with an appetite.
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A little saint best fits a little shrine, A little prop best fits a little vine, As my small cruse best fits my little wine.
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Like will to like, each creature loves his kind.
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Gather ye rosebuds, while ye may.
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Praise they that will times past, I joy to see My selfe now live: this age best pleaseth mee.
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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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In the hour of my distress, When temptations me oppress, And when I my sins confess, Sweet Spirit, comfort me.
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For pitty, Sir, find out that Bee Which bore my Love away I'le seek him in your Bonnet brave, I'le seek him in your eyes.
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Seldom comes Glory till a man be dead.
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A spark neglected makes a mighty fire.
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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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Each must in virtue strive for to excel That man lives twice that lives the first life well.
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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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