Crosses.

Our crosses are no other than the rods,
And our diseases, vultures of the gods:
Each grief we feel, that likewise is a kite
Sent forth by them, our flesh to eat, or bite.

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

To Jealousy.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

Upon Comely, A Good Speaker But An Ill Singer. Epig.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

Revenge.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

The Beggar.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

English

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Sorrows.

Sorrows our portion are: ere hence we go,
Crosses we must have; or, hereafter woe.

Robert Herrick

Comforts In Crosses.

Be not dismayed though crosses cast thee down;
Thy fall is but the rising to a crown.

Robert Herrick

Crosses.

Though good things answer many good intents,
Crosses do still bring forth the best events.

Robert Herrick

Sufferings.

We merit all we suffer, and by far
More stripes than God lays on the sufferer.

Robert Herrick

Grief.

Sorrows divided amongst many, less
Discruciate a man in deep distress.

Robert Herrick

His Saviour's Words Going To The Cross.

Have, have ye no regard, all ye
Who pass this way, to pity Me,
Who am a man of misery!

A man both bruis'd, and broke, and one
Who suffers not here for Mine own,
But for My friends' transgression!

Ah! Sion's daughters, do not fear
The cross, the cords, the nails, the spear,
The myrrh, the gall, the vinegar;

For Christ, your loving Saviour, hath
Drunk up the wine of God's fierce wrath;
Only there's left a little froth,

Less for to taste than for to show
What bitter cups had been your due,
Had He not drank them up for you.

Robert Herrick