Robert Herrick Poems

Health is the first good lent to men;
A gentle disposition then:
Next, to be rich by no by-ways;
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All things decay with time: The forest sees
The growth and down-fall of her aged trees;
That timber tall, which three-score lustres stood
The proud dictator of the state-like wood,
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Get up, get up for shame, the blooming Morn
Upon her wings presents the god unshorn.
See how Aurora throws her fair
Fresh-quilted colours through the air;
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Bacchus, let me drink no more!
Wild are seas that want a shore!
When our drinking has no stint,
There is no one pleasure in't.
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These fresh beauties, we can prove,
Once were virgins, sick of love,
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I bring ye love. QUES. What will love do?
ANS. Like, and dislike ye.
I bring ye love. QUES. What will love do?
ANS. Stroke ye, to strike ye.
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By those soft tods of wool
With which the air is full;
By all those tinctures there,
That paint the hemisphere;
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