The Poems of Robert Herrick

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E.G. Richards, 1906 - 312 sayfa

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Sayfa 89 - You haste away so soon; As yet the early-rising Sun Has not attain'd his noon. Stay, stay Until the hasting day Has run But to the even-song; And, having pray'd together, we Will go with you along. We have short time to stay, as you, We have as short a Spring ; As quick a growth to meet decay As you, or any thing. We die, As your hours do, and dry Away Like to the Summer's rain ; Or as the pearls of morning's dew, Ne'er to be found again.
Sayfa xiii - I SING of brooks, of blossoms, birds and bowers, Of April, May, of June and July-flowers ; I sing of May-poles, hock-carts wassails, wakes, Of bridegrooms, brides and of their...
Sayfa 79 - E'en death to die for thee. Thou art my life, my love, my heart, The very eyes of me: And hast command of every part, To live and die for thee.
Sayfa 232 - AH Ben ! Say how, or when Shall we thy guests Meet at those lyric feasts Made at the Sun, The Dog, the Triple Tun ? Where we such clusters had, As made us nobly wild, not mad ; And yet each verse of thine Out-did the meat, out-did the frolic wine.
Sayfa 34 - There's not a budding boy or girl this day But is got up and gone to bring in May. A deal of youth ere this is come Back, and with white-thorn laden home. Some have...
Sayfa 34 - 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.
Sayfa 180 - To seek and bring rough pepper home ; Nor to the Eastern Ind dost rove To bring from thence the scorched clove ; Nor, with the loss of thy lov'd rest, Bring'st home the ingot from the West.
Sayfa 210 - WHENAS in silks my Julia goes, Then, then, methinks, how sweetly flows That liquefaction of her clothes! Next, when I cast mine eyes and see That brave vibration each way free, — O how that glittering taketh me ! Robert Herrick 121.
Sayfa 74 - Sweet-heart, to this? — No, no, this sorrow shown By your tears shed, Would have this lecture read, That things of greatest, so of meanest worth, Conceived with grief are, and with tears brought forth.
Sayfa 257 - This night as ye use, Who shall for the present delight here, Be a king by the lot, And who shall not Be Twelfth-day queen for the night here.

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