Littleness No Cause Of Leanness.

One feeds on lard, and yet is lean,
And I but feasting with a bean
Grow fat and smooth. The reason is:
Jove prospers my meat more than his.

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

Of Love.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

His Coming To The Sepulchre.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

Hymn To The Grace

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

The Hour-Glass

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

English

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Once Poor, Still Penurious.

Goes the world now, it will with thee go hard:
The fattest hogs we grease the more with lard.
To him that has, there shall be added more;
Who is penurious, he shall still be poor.

Robert Herrick

No Want Where There's Little.

To bread and water none is poor;
And having these, what need of more?
Though much from out the cess be spent,
Nature with little is content.

Robert Herrick

Love Killed By Lack.

Let me be warm, let me be fully fed,
Luxurious love by wealth is nourished.
Let me be lean, and cold, and once grown poor,
I shall dislike what once I lov'd before.

Robert Herrick

Supreme Fortune Falls Soonest.

While leanest beasts in pastures feed,
The fattest ox the first must bleed.

Robert Herrick

To Keep A True Lent.

Is this a fast, to keep
    The larder lean?
        And clean
From fat of veals and sheep?

Is it to quit the dish
    Of flesh, yet still
        To fill
The platter high with fish?

Is it to fast an hour,
    Or ragg'd to go,
        Or show
A downcast look and sour?

No; 'tis a fast to dole
    Thy sheaf of wheat,
        And meat,
Unto the hungry soul.

It is to fast from strife,
    From old debate
        And hate;
To circumcise thy life.

To show a heart grief-rent;
    To starve thy sin,
        Not bin;
And that's to keep thy Lent.

Robert Herrick

Upon Bungy.

Bungy does fast; looks pale; puts sackcloth on;
Not out of conscience, or religion:
Or that this younker keeps so strict a Lent,
Fearing to break the king's commandement:
But being poor, and knowing flesh is dear,
He keeps not one, but many Lents i' th' year.

Robert Herrick