Robert Herrick

But one half-hour that’s made up hereWith grief, seems longer than a year.

First, for thy Queen-ship on thy head is setOf flowers a sweet commingled coronet;About thy neck a carkanet is bound,Made of the Ruby, Pearl, and Diamond;A golden ring, that shines upon thy thumb;About thy wrist the rich Dardanium;Between thy breasts, than down of swans more white,There plays the Sapphire with the Chrysolite.No part besides must…

Art presupposes nature; nature, shePrepares the way for man’s docility.

For what other reason ’tisBut to show thee how, in part,Thou my pretty captive art?But thy bond slave is my heart:’tis but silk that bindeth thee,Knap the thread and thou art free;But ’tis otherwise with me:-I am bound and fast bound, soThat from thee I cannot go;If I could, I would not so.

We are the lords of wine and oil;By whose tough labours, and rough hands,We rip up first, then reap our lands.Crown’d with the ears of corn, now come,And to the pipe sing Harvest Home.Come forth, my lord, and see the cartDress’d up with all the country art.See, here a malkin, there a sheet,As spotless pure,…

Knead but the dough, and it will beTo paste of almonds turn’d by thee;Or kiss it thou but once or twice,And for the bride-cake there’ll be spice.

Love is a thing so likes me,That, let her layOn me all day,I’ll kiss the hand that strikes me.I will not, I,Now blubb’ring cry,It, ah! too late repents meThat I did fallTo love at all–Since love so much contents me.No, no, I’ll beIn fetters free;While others they sit wringingTheir hands for pain,I’ll entertainThe wounds of…