An End Decreed.

Let's be jocund while we may,
All things have an ending day;
And when once the work is done,
Fates revolve no flax they've spun.

Robert Herrick

Robert Herrick was a 17th-century English lyric poet and cleric. He is known for his book of poems, "Hesperides," which includes the carpe diem poem "To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time." His works are noted for their clarity, simplicity, and musical quality. Herrick was also a vicar of Dean Prior in Devon, despite being ejected during the English Civil War and later reinstated.

Robert Herrick

The Beggar.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

To God.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

Upon Doll.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

Recompense.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

English

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The End.

If well thou hast begun, go on fore-right;
It is the end that crowns us, not the fight.

Robert Herrick

Death Ends All Woe.

Time is the bound of things; where'er we go
Fate gives a meeting, Death's the end of woe.

Robert Herrick

To Enjoy The Time

While fates permit us, let's be merry;
Pass all we must the fatal ferry;
And this our life, too, whirls away,
With the rotation of the day.

Robert Herrick

The End.

Conquer we shall, but we must first contend;
'Tis not the fight that crowns us, but the end.

Robert Herrick

The Parting Verse, The Feast There Ended.

Loth to depart, but yet at last each one
Back must now go to's habitation;
Not knowing thus much when we once do sever,
Whether or no that we shall meet here ever.
As for myself, since time a thousand cares
And griefs hath filed upon my silver hairs,
'Tis to be doubted whether I next year
Or no shall give ye a re-meeting here.
If die I must, then my last vow shall be,
You'll with a tear or two remember me.
Your sometime poet; but if fates do give
Me longer date and more fresh springs to live,
Oft as your field shall her old age renew,
Herrick shall make the meadow-verse for you.

Robert Herrick

Best To Be Merry.

Fools are they who never know
How the times away do go;
But for us, who wisely see
Where the bounds of black death be,
Let's live merrily, and thus
Gratify the Genius.

Robert Herrick