Biting Of Beggars.

Who, railing, drives the lazar from his door,
Instead of alms, sets dogs upon the poor.

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

Three Fatal Sisters.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

Upon Franck.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

The Parasceve, Or Preparation.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

Another To Bring In The Witch.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

English

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The Beggar.

Shall I a daily beggar be,
For love's sake asking alms of thee?
Still shall I crave, and never get
A hope of my desired bit?
Ah, cruel maids! I'll go my way,
Whereas, perchance, my fortunes may
Find out a threshold or a door
That may far sooner speed the poor:
Where thrice we knock, and none will hear,
Cold comfort still I'm sure lives there.

Robert Herrick

Beggars.

Jacob God's beggar was; and so we wait,
Though ne'er so rich, all beggars at His gate.

Robert Herrick

The Beggar To Mab, The Queen Fairy

Please your Grace, from out your store
Give an alms to one that's poor,
That your mickle may have more.
Black I'm grown for want of meat,
Give me then an ant to eat,
Or the cleft ear of a mouse
Over-sour'd in drink of source;
Or, sweet lady, reach to me
The abdomen of a bee;
Or commend a cricket's hip,
Or his huckson, to my scrip;
Give for bread, a little bit
Of a pease that 'gins to chit,
And my full thanks take for it.
Flour of fuz-balls, that's too good
For a man in needy-hood;
But the meal of mill-dust can
Well content a craving man;
Any orts the elves refuse
Well will serve the beggar's use.
But if this may seem too much
For an alms, then give me such
Little bits that nestle there
In the pris'ner's pannier.
So a ble...

Robert Herrick

Upon Grudgings.

Grudgings turns bread to stones, when to the poor
He gives an alms, and chides them from his door.

Robert Herrick

On Himself.

One ear tingles; some there be
That are snarling now at me:
Be they those that Homer bit,
I will give them thanks for it.

Robert Herrick

Upon Mudge.

Mudge every morning to the postern comes,
His teeth all out, to rinse and wash his gums.

Robert Herrick