Cherry-Pit

Julia and I did lately sit,
playing for sport at cherry-pit;
She threw; I cast; and, having thrown
I got the pit, she got the stone.

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

Twelfth Night: Or, King And Queen.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

Rewards

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

A New Years' Gift Sent To Sir Simeon Steward

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

Prevision Or Provision.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

English

Suggested Poems

Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.

The Lawn.

Would I see lawn, clear as the heaven, and thin?
It should be only in my Julia's skin,
Which so betrays her blood as we discover
The blush of cherries when a lawn's cast over.

Robert Herrick

The Weeping Cherry.

I saw a cherry weep, and why?
Why wept it? but for shame
Because my Julia's lip was by,
And did out-red the same.
But, pretty fondling, let not fall
A tear at all for that:
Which rubies, corals, scarlets, all
For tincture wonder at.

Robert Herrick

Chop-Cherry.

Thou gav'st me leave to kiss,
Thou gav'st me leave to woo;
Thou mad'st me think, by this
And that, thou lov'dst me too.

But I shall ne'er forget
How, for to make thee merry,
Thou mad'st me chop, but yet
Another snapp'd the cherry.

Robert Herrick

Cherry Ripe

Cherry-ripe, ripe, ripe, I cry,
Full and fair ones; come, and buy:
If so be you ask me where
They do grow? I answer, there
Where my Julia's lips do smile;
There's the land, or cherry-isle;
Whose plantations fully show
All the year where cherries grow.

Robert Herrick

Stool-Ball.

At stool-ball, Lucia, let us play
For sugar-cakes and wine:
Or for a tansy let us pay,
The loss, or thine, or mine.

If thou, my dear, a winner be
At trundling of the ball,
The wager thou shall have, and me,
And my misfortunes all.

But if, my sweetest, I shall get,
Then I desire but this:
That likewise I may pay the bet
And have for all a kiss.

Robert Herrick

Upon Julia Washing Herself In The River.

How fierce was I, when I did see
My Julia wash herself in thee!
So lilies thorough crystal look:
So purest pebbles in the brook:
As in the river Julia did,
Half with a lawn of water hid.
Into thy streams myself I threw,
And struggling there, I kiss'd thee too;
And more had done, it is confess'd,
Had not thy waves forbade the rest.

Robert Herrick