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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.
Robert Herrick
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Robert Herrick
Age: 83 †
Born: 1591
Born: August 24
Died: 1674
Died: October 12
Poet
Writer
London
England
Prime
Use
Lost
May
Ever
Rosebuds
Time
Tarry
Virginity
Marry
More quotes by Robert Herrick
Like will to like, each creature loves his kind.
Robert Herrick
Well I sup and well I dine, When I drink my frolic wine.
Robert Herrick
Bid me to love, and I will give a loving heart to thee.
Robert Herrick
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.
Robert Herrick
O thou, the drink of gods and angels! Wine
Robert Herrick
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.
Robert Herrick
Learn this of me, where'er thy lot doth fall, Short lot, or not, to be content with all.
Robert Herrick
Necessity makes dastards valiant men.
Robert Herrick
Tis not the food, but the content, That makes the table's merriment.
Robert Herrick
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
Happy is the bride that the sun shines on.
Robert Herrick
The first act's doubtful, but we say, it is the last commends the play.
Robert Herrick
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.
Robert Herrick
Some asked me where the rubies grew, And nothing I did say But with my finger pointed to The lips of Julia.
Robert Herrick
What is a kiss? Why this, as some approve: the sure, sweet cement, glue, and lime of love.
Robert Herrick
When words we want, love teacheth to indite And what we blush to speak, she bids us write.
Robert Herrick
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
In the hour of my distress, When temptations me oppress, And when I my sins confess, Sweet Spirit, comfort me.
Robert Herrick
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.
Robert Herrick
Things are evermore sincere / Candor here, and lustre there / Delighting.
Robert Herrick