No Spouse But A Sister.

A bachelor I will
Live as I have liv'd still,
And never take a wife
To crucify my life;
But this I'll tell ye too,
What now I mean to do:
A sister (in the stead
Of wife) about I'll lead;
Which I will keep embrac'd,
And kiss, but yet be chaste.

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 His Muse.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

To Julia.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

To The Sour Reader.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

Upon A Child

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

English

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To His Tomb-Maker.

Go I must; when I am gone,
Write but this upon my stone:
Chaste I lived, without a wife,
That's the story of my life.
Strewings need none, every flower
Is in this word, bachelour.

Robert Herrick

Upon His Sister-In-Law, Mistress Elizabeth Herrick

First, for effusions due unto the dead,
My solemn vows have here accomplished;
Next, how I love thee, that my grief must tell,
Wherein thou liv'st for ever. Dear, farewell!

Robert Herrick

Upon Himself.

Mop-eyed I am, as some have said,
Because I've lived so long a maid:
But grant that I should wedded be,
Should I a jot the better see?
No, I should think that marriage might,
Rather than mend, put out the light.

Robert Herrick

Upon Himself.

I could never love indeed;
Never see mine own heart bleed:
Never crucify my life,
Or for widow, maid, or wife.

I could never seek to please
One or many mistresses:
Never like their lips to swear
Oil of roses still smelt there.

I could never break my sleep,
Fold mine arms, sob, sigh, or weep:
Never beg, or humbly woo
With oaths and lies, as others do.

I could never walk alone;
Put a shirt of sackcloth on:
Never keep a fast, or pray
For good luck in love that day.

But have hitherto liv'd free
As the air that circles me:
And kept credit with my heart,
Neither broke i' th' whole, or part.

Robert Herrick

His Comfort.

The only comfort of my life
Is, that I never yet had wife;
Nor will hereafter; since I know
Who weds, o'er-buys his weal with woe

Robert Herrick

The Poet Loves A Mistress, But Not To Marry.

I do not love to wed,
Though I do like to woo;
And for a maidenhead
I'll beg and buy it too.

I'll praise and I'll approve
Those maids that never vary;
And fervently I'll love,
But yet I would not marry.

I'll hug, I'll kiss, I'll play,
And, cock-like, hens I'll tread,
And sport it any way
But in the bridal bed.

For why? that man is poor
Who hath but one of many,
But crown'd he is with store
That, single, may have any.

Why then, say, what is he,
To freedom so unknown,
Who, having two or three,
Will be content with one?

Robert Herrick