Long-Looked-For Comes At Last.

Though long it be, years may repay the debt;
None loseth that which he in time may get.

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

Change Common To All.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

Upon The Lady Crew.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

Upon Pink, An Ill-Fac'd Painter. Epig.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

To His Book.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

English

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Seek And Find.

Attempt the end, and never stand to doubt;
Nothing's so hard but search will find it out.

Robert Herrick

Long Life.

The longer thread of life we spin,
The more occasion still to sin.

Robert Herrick

Things Of Choice Long A-Coming.

We pray 'gainst war, yet we enjoy no peace;
Desire deferr'd is that it may increase.

Robert Herrick

Never Too Late To Die.

No man comes late unto that place from whence
Never man yet had a regredience.

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

On Himself

A wearied pilgrim I have wander'd here,
Twice five-and-twenty, bate me but one year;
Long I have lasted in this world; 'tis true
But yet those years that I have lived, but few.
Who by his gray hairs doth his lustres tell,
Lives not those years, but he that lives them well:
One man has reach'd his sixty years, but he
Of all those three-score has not lived half three:
He lives who lives to virtue; men who cast
Their ends for pleasure, do not live, but last.

Robert Herrick